I Can Change

February 14, 2017

Go ahead, unscrew the cap.
Pour the burning liquid down and swallow it.
Forget about your family.
It’s okay, they’re asleep.
Look at the empty bottle in your hand.
Crave it like a child to a toy.
“She’s only twelve!” You think as you take the few dollars off the table.
Walk out the door, look at the torn up car, the one you could barely afford.
You have no license,
So walk.

Don’t think about your shaking hands,
Or the cold that is stinging your arms.
Don’t think about the fact that the sun is rising, just keep going.
The now crinkled dollars stay firmly in your hand as you grab your…
Enemy, friend?
“Good morning.” The cashier chimes with a guilty expression.
You just lay your, whatever, down not saying anything back.
It was the only thing you had there, in your times of down.
The one thing your grandmother lured you with, when you were what, ten?
Did she care that you would be addicted?
You laugh out to yourself.
“Addicted? No, I can stop when I want!”

You look at them women and child looking for change as you would through the door.
Change, for the mother to get gas,

Change, for the child to get food.
But you don’t think that you need to…
You take a seat while they look desperately.
It owns you, the alcohol.
But you don’t think so.
“I can change.” You say into the bottle.
Like you said, you can stop whenever you want to, right?

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