In that space, that the only thing between you and a drink is God. Glad I can pause. That’s where he is it’s in that pause.
We all go there and reminisce. Romancing something that pretends it loves you, and then stabs you and watches you bleed out. Then you lie there in a pool of you own victimization, oozing out to the pulse of your heart beat, keeping rhythm to time tracking out the darkness of your mind. Lost in selfpity and fear, asking for the assistance of something you forgot was there until you were exposed to the failings of you own character. Peace Michael 2015