They say alcohol is a depressant, but I think people can be too. I think toxic love is a drug that can make the nervous system ache. The only real symptom of alcohol is dizziness, most of it is placebo. It would be nice to say “it’s all in your head” but drugs spread to the body. Stumbling to the bar, stumbling to her porch, what’s the difference? When she tastes like whiskey and bites like it too, who am I to turn away from misery when it’s addictive? They say not to drown your sorrows in the drink, but what about drowning them in infatuation? Because that’s really what this is. I tell myself the l-word should only be used for something pure. But when has love ever been? It’s not cold, clear spring water. It’s green and dredged from the bottom of my bruised brain’s lake. I store empty bottles in my mind’s basement and the labels all have her name on them. She used to drink me dry, now there’s only a drip left.
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