A smoldering fire in the background
That used to consume everything in its path.
The smell of disintegration surrounds all of them
To the point that most feel vulnerable to it.
Worn, they leave the area in search of their truth
Only to find it in the worst possible places.
Most fall victim to their own tyranny
Which leads them to the entrails of society.
First the drink makes you feel strong
Dulls the senses
That you forget what happened,
If only for a little while.
Then you feel weak for needing it
You deny needing it
Even as you reach for it.
You love it
Because you don’t have to feel
You lose family
Yet somehow it isn’t the fault
Or what you do.
Denial is a beautiful gift
You hand to people
Begging to know your truth
When you don’t want them to have it.