Poetry

Do You Want To Know Why I Stopped Drinking Whiskey?

whiskey
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Because when I drank it, I got far too angry. At you. At the world. I screamed at you from the chair that had once belonged to my father, telling you how I could listen to my music as loud as I damned well pleased, thank you very much. You retreated, defeated, and I kept drinking Jack Daniels, alone. Because it gave me carte blanche to behave terribly. “It’s not my fault,” I thought, numb. “I was drinking whiskey." I could excuse all the terrible things I said, the people I embarrassed, the scenes I caused. “I was drinking whiskey,