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Night after night, time after time.
He pulls that bottle out from under his bed.
pours shot after shot after shot
To try to numb the pain she has caused in his life.
Good old Jack Daniels is the only one for him.
His vision slowly comes to a blur. This is not enough.
He still feels the pain inside, and it is far too much.
The shots are bullets and his hands are an AK-47.
His head gets heavy and his vision more blurry.
It suddenly hits him like a brick and he can not see straight.
His head starts spinning as he crawls to the bathroom.
The toilet is who he will be hugging for the next 3 hours.
Awake a few hours later, everything is so bright and loud.
That bottle that was almost full last night is almost empty.
The thoughts that haunted him hours ago quickly replenish.
Tonight won’t be much different.