You were an alcoholic.
You always came running back to the intoxicating liquid
That you continuously claimed to love.
We both know it was killing you,
But when you depend on something for stability,
It is all you will crave.
So every single time I blew up at you,
Every single time I took out my stress on you,
No matter what,
You still came back.
But I was never good for you.
You just refused to admit it.
But now you've found your new drink.
And you have grown to love her instead.
Why?
It's simple, really.
Water is much better than whisky.
