Is it better to know? or to Forget? Remember? or Submit? “With knowledge comes great power” “Ignorance is bliss” “The truth shall set you free”. Create the world you want, sea what you want to sea. Oh but sometimes the waves of truth are too strong. They drag out the dirty laundry. Expose all that is wrong. Hidden bottles float to the surface bobbing into the light We push them away, usher them out of sight. From long ago, not mine are the excuses that we hear. The bottles that we don’t see, are what we truly fear. How many? How much? where? why? How much will it take, before I see my Daddy die. More and more of the bottles escape, wash into our life. They ooze from every cranny. Upping the ante. It’s me or the drink. Take your pick. Wait, I see a bottle behind the candlesticks. In the good china?! Behind the grill?! Under the cushion? In the window sill? I’m chocking on bottles, eating on bottles, sleeping on bottles. You think your problem is a secret. But it’s not. It’s everywhere. We act like we don’t know, but it’s in the air. You can’t keep a secret if its written across your forehead, in your eyes, on your breath, practically said. We can’t escape the waves any longer, their crushing force offers no choice. To know or not to know is not the option. We are all drowning in it, every single one I hope you remember that, when your bottle is done. I drink it too, so does Austin, and Gayle, and Tim. We all drink with you, and drown in your pain. Secrets are no good, if the effects you cannot contain. Ignorance is not ignorance if you are knowledgeable of the harm occurring. You’re not protecting anyone by deterring. Your dignity is gone and still going. Be a man. Stop this silly game. Hiding will only deepen your shame. I’m drowning in secrets, the hiding, lack of confiding. I don’t want to know a lot. Just to stop this video on repeat. I’m sick of play acting, this burden at my feet. You’re a drunk. There, I said it. Was that so hard? How else do you explain all those liquor store charges on your credit card? I’m drowning, we’re drowning we’re all sinking down. The reality of the world is a small distant sound. This is the way we live, suffocating, in need for air, until the day I can breathe , and you are no longer there. Drink up, Daddy. Cheers to an early death. Every sip you take, steals another breath. Secrets, Secrets are only good untold I will take yours to the grave, where I lie, gray, and cold. The bottles cannot follow me there. No, No, they are for you. I have found my escape, I hope you may too. The play is finally over, your skeletons exposed. Too bad you and I are no longer here, to sea the play come to a close. I guess that’s the sacrifice one makes, when it’s the bottle they chose. It wasn’t his children he couldn’t live without, it was the booze. |