a crutch

When did the drink become a crutch,
Rather than a good time?
When…where… did I learn to rely so heavily on it?
Or rather, who?
I can’t remember the day it became obvious,
Or maybe, the switch was slow,
Like the second hand of the clock,
Moving just enough to not notice until it was too late,
Did you teach me the right way?
The proper way to turn to the glass over everything
My reliant; my sanctuary and my graveyard…
Living life to the very edge until I fall over,
Never know which drunken stupor would embrace me at the bottom.

2 thoughts on “a crutch

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s