Yesterday I wanted to drink.
All I could imagine was the foamy taste, the smell, the drink.
All I could think of was walking out, saying goodbye, and never coming back.
All I could think of was, this is it: You Win.
I have never felt so low, so angry and filled with rage to the point I crashed heavy, and felt utterly worthless.
Like no matter what I did, it was for nothing.
Why do I care?
So I stared at the bottle. And I opened it.
The crisp smell leaking out as liquid started foaming, the smell hitting my nostrils, a smell I hadn't smelled in what seemed like forever, but triggering everything inside me, sending flashbacks, sending memories and images I had long lost forgotten, or chosen to forget.
I grabbed the bottle so it wouldn't spill, and a bit of it got on my fingers.
The smell strong now, powerful, intense.
So I poured it down the sink. And I stared at the liquid foaming its way down to oblivion.
Never to be recovered again.
I washed my hands, but kept the empty bottle.
I scarred it, and set it on my counter.
A reminder.
A memory.
A flashback.
A poem.
A piece of artwork.
A writing.
A weakness.
A power.
A choice.
My choice.
All I could imagine was the foamy taste, the smell, the drink.
All I could think of was walking out, saying goodbye, and never coming back.
All I could think of was, this is it: You Win.
I have never felt so low, so angry and filled with rage to the point I crashed heavy, and felt utterly worthless.
Like no matter what I did, it was for nothing.
Why do I care?
So I stared at the bottle. And I opened it.
The crisp smell leaking out as liquid started foaming, the smell hitting my nostrils, a smell I hadn't smelled in what seemed like forever, but triggering everything inside me, sending flashbacks, sending memories and images I had long lost forgotten, or chosen to forget.
I grabbed the bottle so it wouldn't spill, and a bit of it got on my fingers.
The smell strong now, powerful, intense.
So I poured it down the sink. And I stared at the liquid foaming its way down to oblivion.
Never to be recovered again.
I washed my hands, but kept the empty bottle.
I scarred it, and set it on my counter.
A reminder.
A memory.
A flashback.
A poem.
A piece of artwork.
A writing.
A weakness.
A power.
A choice.
My choice.
