I am ashamed I cannot drink enough
to forget,
but oh how I try.
I numb the pain,
at best,
never curing it.
Each day it returns
like a lost kitten
searching for its mother’s milk.
My memories feed it,
nurture it,
care for it in the dark.
Each evening I try to kill it,
tying it in a sack,
drowning it in a river of beer
and whiskey.
Unable to let go of the sack,
the tiny mews of memory beg
for life,
I cannot say no.


OK this one is a bit of a downer even for me but hey, we are what we are right? (I’m working on my issues though. “Every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better” (bonus points if you know the movie))


One thought on “Ashamed

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