Finding Comfort In A Bottle

I love the amber liquid,
The stirring burn as it hits
The back of my throat, so it roars,
It’s powerful as it scours my tummy
And makes me feel again.

The amber liquid blurs me at the edges,
It is easier to think and feel,
Everything is not real!
Amber makes everything a dream,
My hands do not work like they should.

With the amber liquid;
I do not have to be responsible,
I do not have to be me,
Instead, I can be blurry at the edges
And forget how to type properly.

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3 thoughts on “Finding Comfort In A Bottle”

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