A Surrogate for the Warmth I Sought

They told me it was just one drink,

But that drink took another drink, and soon

I became the drink, swirling and deep,

Lost in its amber allure, a silent swoon.

One sip, a bridge to fleeting connection,

But the drink craved more, a deeper affection,

A surrogate for the warmth I sought,

In a world where emptiness fought.

Each sip, a whisper, a fleeting escape,

From the ache of a world too sharp, too bright.

I danced with shadows in the night’s embrace,

A fragile flame flickering, fighting the fight.

Days turned to nights, nights into haze,

Caught in a cycle, a relentless chase.

Where the bottle promised solace, a maze

Of false comfort, a numbing embrace.

Until one day, amid shattered dreams,

I woke to find the mirror’s harsh gleam.

A stranger gazing back, hollow and stark,

In the depths of the bottle, lost in the dark.

They told me it was just one drink,

But that drink took another drink, and soon

I became the drink, a soul adrift,

Until I chose to break free, to reclaim the noon.

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