Vodka, my dear and oldest friend.

Dear Vodka,
We haven’t spoken much just lately.
I’m sorry, I know you understand that me and you share a deep connection.
I still remember the very first time that I met you.
I was fourteen and sat with friends,
they wern’t freinds,
i just didn’t know it at that point.
We were in CC a chinese restuarant
closed down and fully stocked
whilst some guy waited for his family to come over.
The first glass burned at my young throat,
three quaters you and a splash of coke,
the second,
third,
fourth glass tasted like laughter,
but what came after,
as you danced through my blood,
posioning me you fuck!
That night our friendship was forged.
You’ve stuck with me through the bad,
helped me with the sad,
i’ve pissed you out in the grimiest places,
puked you up in the worst places (yeah thanks Mr Vodka, the steps outside the pub whilst a band sings my fave song, much appreciated)
But through it all,
We had a ball.
Walking hand in hand,
Through this fucked up land.
I hope you can forgive me,
I hope that you can see,
This time,
You can’t help me.

A crossroad of destruction.

I’ve not a single idea,
Of what comes next.
No detailed plan,
Or future dream,
I have nothing
It seems.
Two paths ahead,
Both waiting for me to walk them,
One filled with destruction, likely fuelled by vodka,
No strings and hapless misgivings.
The other is simple, and I am the prize, If I walk the path I will surely rise.
I don’t know who I am,
or what in this world I can become,
I never dreamt I could become someone.
I choose this path,
I don’t know where it leads,
But I know that it’s
What I need.
I might fail it,
I might nail it.
But, for the first time in my life,
I’d like to try.