I had my last drink that night,
And in the morning you were gone.
Only a note by way of apology,
for being how I treated you.
You came back home,
Even when we had no home left.
Now I still panic,
If I wake up in an empty house.
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Fucking Hell, Hip.
This is wrenching and beautiful. I know your sobriety (and previous lack thereof) doesn’t exist as a font of inspiration, so hopefully I’m coming across as not an asshole when I say that the pain and fear is audible in this, and is a part of what makes it brilliant.
You’re not coming across as an asshole, and thank you.
Seriously thank you, not just for consistently reading and commenting, but also for prodding me back to working on my blog again. I needed it.