Getting high,

Bloodshot eyes.

Drinking vodka and whiskey,

Thinking there’s nothing to lose,

But there is.

Nothing to lose but a life

Left behind in a twist of metal;

In a twist of fate;

In a bloody battle between morality.

Making the right decisions is

Harder than

Succumbing to the wrong ones.

You think you’re immortal?

Try telling that to the little girl

Across the street,

Whose life was handed to God

Because you and Johnny got high.

Driving too fast letting life

Pass you by like the smoke

Of a joint just lit,

A hit, taken to try and make

Things right.

But it’s wrong.

It’s 12:12 now as you sit

And try to decipher why this happened to you.

Imagine how she felt;

It happened to her,

And you’re still alive

To feel the guilt

To feel the high that left you with

Nothing to lose

But your mind.

And the empty bottle is

Still on the floor of

A car that you wrecked

A life with.

That you wrecked lives with.

The guilt is liquid proof,

And vomiting won’t help

Because it poisons you,

Seeps through your blood and

Stays with you like remorse,

Like anger,

Like regret.

And you realize you were a child all along

Never an adult

Making the right decisions.

It’s always easier to take the wrong ones.