Addy

The sweet and satisfying aroma drifts into my senses, the sight and the thought of it engulfs my brain.

Once harmless now becomes lethal,
Passing the bottle between two people.
Sweetly flowing on the tip of my tongue,
A crisp twang of happiness and warmth wraps
me up in an assuring hug.
The idea of once every now and then becomes my savior through thick and thin.
It's an addiction.
An infection.
Intoxication.

The clear world is smudged like cold raindrops on a bare window.
What was in sight is now nothing but a shadow. The silhouettes of your plans are nothing more than a blur.
Nobody understands the relief, nobody can concur.
Thoughts spoken turn to nothing but a mere slur.
The problems once evident
become pushed deep down inside,
lying like sediment.
Not wanting to hide.
Still and ignored. Only to be shifted around by the silence and the absence of what you know you can't shake.

But you do shake.
Your hands shake and your body shakes.
Your vision shakes and your wavering
aspirations to quit shake.
When you wake,
You need more.
You need the substance that controls you to the core.
Going around and infecting peoples days
While helping us sleep at night.
Once it's gone we are in a haze
Not knowing what we want or need,
Nothing is clear.
Nothing is in sight.
You just want everything to be as dark as night.

You need the feeling of being on top of the
world.
The feeling of relaxation soothes you to the core.
It's the addiction to the intoxication
The want for the feeling of exhilaration
But then comes dehydration and depression.
Trapping you into an unknown location.
You're inside your head, swimming in thoughts.
You can't escape reality, you're going to get
caught.
You looked for a way out,
They say you fought.
But did you really?
Did you think the addiction was healing?

Now you sit reminiscing
Remembering the feeling that you have been
missing.
You look around and see the plans you had,
Only to realize that the bottle was bad.
Not even bad but ironically intoxicating.
Holding your head under the surface of reality
and dreaming.
It's all a game, the bottle and I.
With the bottle I fly,
But without it
I die.

The addiction has my soul,
Smirking with its warm, welcoming glow.
The label reads warnings
But in reality it's just rules.
A bottle in the morning and a bottle at night,
My brain has wandered and is out of the fight.

It's all a game I think to myself,
All of this does nothing for my health.
My mental strength and tolerance has gone,
I feel it from dusk to dawn.
The ghosts are back as haunting as ever.
The addiction has made me whether.
Slowly falling apart but held together by jack,
Little by little, I've begun to crack.

With a new sight, I begin to think.
It's time to breathe and get back on track.

The addiction subsided and hope is in view.
The days seem brighter and the nights,
I sleep through.

The bottle is not a friend, but a foe.
I told old Jack it was time to go.

The addiction caused nothing but self hate and
friction.
Made me depressed, hunted by conviction.
Death is inevitable but now further away.
I thank God for guiding me every day.
The light has shone through,
I am blessed to be able to share this with you.

Count your blessings not your bottles.
Addiction is a serious drug,
So let off the throttle.