Recovery

Whisky goes down the gullet as a crutch and comes up as evil

My body is punishing me for indulging in the exact acts that prevent me from moving up this ladder

I so badly want to reach the upper floors that I've seen glimpses of for years

I keep telling myself I'll get there

The whisky convinces me I won't, it tries its hardest to prevent me from climbing

The more it seeps into the harder it is to use my legs

The more I realize I can't travel far with all of this weight

Maybe this time I'll keep this half-empty bottle as a mantle

An evil I won't let out this time

Pandora's box

Maybe this time it'll stay at this level

It won't dip below

I want to keep it in view so I can prove to myself I'm better than that devil that sits on my shoulder and hands me my mixer

I want its temptation directly in front of me

I want to prove it fucking wrong