Dear Whiskey

Dear Whiskey

I was out there, standing in the darkness. I was abashed by the loneliness and fervor of an unrequited lust for as long as I can remember. I drank the whiskey until i was blind. I smoked the poison until i was numb and crippled on the earth that gave me this life without a second thought. Now, opening my eyes on a bright morning. It all seems like a memory. A memory from another person. A person that nearly died and nearly laughed to feel the pain. I am now caught in between the life lost and the opportunity forgotten. Waking up, halfway through a life that was cursed from the start.
Now, to dream is simply to hallucinate, and yet, to cry is so very real. A wish upon my second chance, is now like watching a meteorite dissapate into the upper atmosphere. So into the churches i shall not stumble, and into the morgue, I will not yet appear. Into the abyss, or back from the grave? Who is there to answer these questions that linger in my psyche, No one. Yet who is there to point the blame at my soul like a demon in the night without a cause, a faceless entity. Inside my mind, the thoughts scatter when asked to appear, and reformulate when the shadows draw near.
So I shall become silent. I shall sit in a simoultaneous state of misery and euphoria. When the grim reaper appears in my vision, I will smile, for I smiled at him countless times throughout the nights of the past. When I sat inside a sillhoutte of which the inside of the perimeter of which was simply a reflection of a person I once knew. Let us rejoice, said the one who put down the whiskey jar some years ago. Let us drink until we are simply anhebriated, says the one still whom puts the poison to his lips.
I say, let me cross over now. Which produces the state of confusion that perplexes me so. For now I am finally here, and in a heartbeat, i will be gone. What is the message in my being, the creedence that I finally produce. Silence.

Sincerely, Yours Truly

Whiskey