This Isn't a Worm in My Tequila, It's a Diamond

I drink because I care.

The anticipated cracking of the can

being opened by gentle hands,

The seductive scent of hops and barley,

The warming ecstacy, liquid joy

sliding down my throat

erupting into my stomach.

These are my memories of you

because you were so rarely in this

delicate life of mine.

I remember lonely nights,

taking shots, the coconut taste

mingling with your name on my lips,

your face blurry as the whiskey in my vision,

the realization that you don't want to be

a part of my life unless it's convenient

churning the acid and jager in my gut.

I stumble through my room like I've been

stumbling through my life, trying desperately

to find something to grab ahold of to steady myself.

Tear drops of flavored vodka running down the

side of the shot glass you gave to me.

The warmth spreading through my body,

making up for the coldness I feel in your

abandonment and absence.

I raise my red plastic cup,

a toast to you, to us,

and drink until my body is filled with

the adoration I never got from you.

So don't worry darling, I'm not an alcoholic,

I am merely a fool in love.