"A Taste of Fiction"

Pour my feelings into a vodka bottle
With every sip, pain seeps back in
Infuse trouble into shots of alcohol
That are tossed back until the poison burns a hole straight through my lips
Sadness works its way into my liver
Becoming friends with hopelessness
And with every drink I down, comes a twinge of sin
Working its way through my what's left of my compromised nervous system

If only I could have found another way to deal with everything
Rather than acidic drinks that lead to vomiting
And all the feelings come back up from whence they came
Hold on to the bottle for dear life
Nothing else I find comforting
The only way I can lose myself and
forget the inner turmoils troubling me