How can you call me an abuser
When the bottle is torturing me
Killing me inside
I am the victim here
It brainwashed me
It made me like this
I am not the abuser
Alcohol abused me
It tricked me
In the night
Lured me in
With flashing colors and neon lights
With chilled poison ambrosia sweet
And now slowly it kills me
And I the masochist
Need it
YOU ARE READING
The Road To Recovery Is Muddy
PoetryAn ongoing journey through mental illness and the daily thoughts and struggles that accompany it
