Empty bottles?
CVS receipts?
Buying bottom-shelf bourbon with a credit card.

Sweating nights?
Vomiting mornings?
Hangovers so often you forget there are other ways to feel.

Bargaining?
Lies?
Years spent alone hunched over a drink and a screen.

Pushy texts?
Oversharing?
Acting like the center of the universe, so someone might notice I’m broken and
Fix me.

Voices?
Loathing?
Hours each day convincing myself I want to live.

Catastrophizing?
Alienating?
Knowing the only thing that can help is a drink.

I don’t want to scare you
But its important you understand.
I’ve been to Hell.
It doesn’t frighten me.