Bourbon
Bourbon stories
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aeortizvictoria
aeortizvictoriawho hurt you
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
Same girl. Different poem.

Bourbon

So here I am

Writing about her again

I feel my throat swell as I type.

It's like I'm choking on her name.

As if it is making me sick.

That's what she does to me.

She's a poison. And she's infected me once again. Taken over the blood in my veins. Polluting the air I breathe; are these breaths even for me anymore!? Am I breathing for you? Or am I breathing for me?

I'm mad. Not mad as in angry. Mad as in crazy. You drive me mad.

You're no good for me.

I've been sober for so long. So healthy. For so long. WITHOUT YOU.

Prosperous.

Look what I've done for myself. I love myself. I'm proud of myself. I have accomplished what I've wanted and so much more.

So.

Much.

More.

Please don't take that away from me. I'm begging you.

Yes

I'm begging you.

You make me want to throw away my sobriety.

And bathe in your sin.

Temptation is the devil.

You.

Are Satan.

I'm a recovering alcoholic. And you are the tall glass of bourbon that I want to drown myself in.

We both know I shouldn't.

We both know the damage that will be caused.

I feel my lips begging for a sip.

Just a taste.

Just one sip.

It won't do any harm.

Just one.

And like a fool, I trick myself into believing that one sip truly will suffice.

Ha!

There's no self control for an alcoholic and a sip of bourbon. There's no self control for me.. and a taste of you.

I can't stop at just one sip. A sip turns into another and then another. Then into a gulp.

And next thing you know, you're chugging a fifth of bourbon, holding back the tears in your eyes; unsure if they've originated from the burn of the alcohol, or from the sadness you fight to hide.

Did you miss her enough to drink?

Or did you drink enough to miss her?

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