How do you know when it’s bad enough?
Does everyone reach rock bottom?
Or is it a more gradual thing?
When things start slipping?
You know,
A missed call that rings
Unanswered texts
A task left unfinished
You’ve no energy to do the one that’s next
A kind of low feeling
No motivation for healing
Other than the one you keep on trying to find
At the bottom of a glass

But that feeling is fake and disappears so fast
So again and again you chase it
The innocent drink in your hand
With vodka you lace it
Then secretly you chug it back
Now you’re hiding it
That’s a fact
How did it get to that?

Need to get to the shops before 4
Have to replenish your store
The one in the kitchen
And the one just in case
Next to the half drunk bottles
Can’t let those go to waste

Is it when we drink to cope with stress?
When comments sting or smart
And to deal with them we don’t have the strength or heart
So we hide
And in denial we head for wine
Where we find ourselves
Pouring more and more over time?

I think it’s suddenly alcohol in control of me
Now I can see
it’s bad enough

Time to get tough with myself
Stay away from the wine on the supermarket shelf
And connect with others
That could really help

read by author

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This poem was composed by Floss The author of The Runaway Train  and Nailing the Narcissist

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