Whiskey

I’m addicted to the bottle and it ain’t a feeling like it.
It can be across the room, across the border, and far from reach.
Yet.. I still manage to find it.
Clenching the bottle and drink from the whiskey.
Tough and rough it felt at the first taste.
But along with the sips, the smoother the shit makes.
The whiskey isn’t any good for me but I can’t put the bottle down.
The whiskey is strong but makes me brittle but nothing’s like it around. 
I clench the bottle and don’t wanna let it go.
Though.. I know from my bad habits that this isn’t the path to take…
This I’ll forever know.
But I like it strong and I like the burn.
I like the way it hurts and for that I’m addicted and yearn. 
Yearning for the taste and fienin’ for the feeling.
The whiskey is the only thing that I find fulfilling.
The bottle is the only thing I find accepting.
Drinking and drinking until the bottle has reached its brunt. 
The bottle, being love.
My preference of whiskey being you and all of the above.
Whiskey, sweet whiskey.. I’m addicted and I’m jus not sure if I can quit or give up.