I pray that you’ll make it home
I don’t know how much it hurt
When I came home collapsing.
Words slurred together into a sentence,
At least that’s what I think it was.
I stumbled like a baby taking its first steps,
With a naive and innocent grin,
But you can tell my breath smells of sin.
I slam the door behind you,
I jump in surprise,
While I laugh stupidly, with glossy eyes.
You watch as your girlfriends fuss about,
You do your best to no think out loud.
She basically carries me,
A cadaver with no function,
To the restroom to handle my body’s eruption.
I sit silently, cowering on the couch,
The retching heard through the house.
A command is issued from the echoing hall,
I stand and follow, and watch your downfall.
The cure is made, or so I thought.
You just threw it up.
My mother apologizes for me,
But there is nothing she can do.
My question is will you?
The disappointment settles in, as tears wish to stain my cheeks.
You doubt that I’ll remember that I began to slam the cabinets,
While I laughed idiotically,
A violent action for someone so normally calm.
I don’t know the sadness you felt,
Nor the disappointment that flooded your mind,
You were so ready to see me for more than five minutes,
But I wasn’t in my mind.
I won’t know the fear you felt,
But you think that to you it is like a game.
You hold the phone close because you’re afraid.
You are afraid of me,
What I could do.
I won’t remember the fact that you didn’t sleep,
That you checked on me,
When I stopped snoring to see if I was breathing.
No you don’t think I will remember,
But each time it happens you can’t forget.
But I don’t think that it is something I’ll regret.
It will simply become something I’ll forget.
You look at my body laying on the floor,
The emotions flooding through a broken door.
All those memories, all the fun,
All those moments replaced by one.
Here you are on the verge of tears,
Feeling betrayed, disappointed,
You blame my state to my return home,
Since I was sober before.
I sought comfort in my friends,
And forgot about you,
So I set out to drink.
What will I remember when the sun rises?
What will I remember, and what will I not?
Will I apologize,
Or go on like it’s all okay?
I won’t care because it will haunt me every day.
Now before you go to sleep you will be left to wonder,
What am I doing?
Am I out working,
Am I out drinking,
Even the occasional drugging?
You’ll be left to worry every night,
And pray that I’ll make it home alright.