I poured my sorrow
Into a shot glass
Quenching the thirst
Of my desire
The amber liquor
Slowly burning its way
Into my soul
The insidiousness
Of its side effects
Deliberately ignored
Its medicine
Tasty and helpful
When used in moderation
Though adept at ensnaring us
Especially, when we are vulnerable
Because when reality
Gets too painful
Or too difficult
For sobriety
Liquor can turn wicked
And excessive consumption
Will make everything seem
Even more unbearable
As we lose control
Of ourselves and of reality
Beginning the slippery slope
Of addiction
The unbalancing of the pendulum
When we unknowingly
Replace our troubles
With a different state of misery
Turning our freedom
Into dependence
Because there’s a fine line
Between the benefit and harm
Of escaping with a drink
A balance we need to keep
To avoid the pitfalls of despair
As we walk the tightrope
Of our lives
A message in a bottle
Familiar words we tell ourselves
As we pour one more, placing
The half emptied decanter
Back on its shelf
Drunk on our own denial