Addictions. Demons.
When you think about it, they are the same thing.
My dad has two.

Two Addictions. Two Demons.
They destroy him, but the worst part is he knows it.
He knows he has to stop. But when?
His Addictions and His Demons haunt him,
Like the ghost of christmas past, they always remind him of what he has done and what he has failed to do.

His Cans.
Hundreds of them littered in both my mind and his.
The Cans that grab ahold of his insides and say
'You will do as I say'.
And, like a loyal slave, he obliges.

His Cigs.
The ones that make him smell like he just got out of a coal mine.
The Cigs that force him to choose: Throw up or Blow up.
And he always chooses option number two.

His Cancer.
The worst time of our family's lives.
The Cancer that, although he fought and defeated, gave him an everlasting memory of what these two Demons can and will do.

His Addictions.
His Demons.
His Choices.
Our Burdens.