Sanity is relative….

DRUNK

Inhale slowly, take the pain away,

a swallow, briskly, helps you face the day.

Red-rimmed eyes, pale, white face,

smile on your lips, you’re in a happy place.

Afternoon approaches, and with it will come tears,

unless you can find that last 5 bucks…

just a few more beers.

Evening wears thin, and you can barely move,

the baby crying in the den, but you are too confused.

Inhaled once too many times, your bottle nearly empty

and you can’t think over all that racket, isn’t it a pity?

Polish off the bottle, and stagger to the baby.

You can’t take the noise, the screaming driving you crazy.

Trip over your own feet as you hold the baby high,

walk with him to the stairs, slurring to him, “don’t you cry”.

He needs to go to bed now, but you can’t see through the blur,

head over heels, now you can hear “How on Earth will we tell her?”

You can’t remember falling, and now you can’t feel your legs,

the doctor sadly touches you, “You’re paralyzed, and the baby’s dead.”

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