A Letter to Alcohol

Dear Alcohol,

Thank you! Thank you for fulfilling people’s happiness when they need it. Thank you for the energy boost and the feeling of being invincible when the night is still young. More importantly, thank you for ruining a family, my family. For creating addictions and breaking already broken souls. Your sneaky lure and deceiving promises of escape sucked my loved ones into your trap.

You tantalized my mother, Ms. Moraga Cay, a beautiful soul now broken from your deception. Your many flavors are my mother’s favorite and my disappointment.  Since before I was born, you misleadingly filled her voids and as I grew up, I began to know you and your destructive flavors too well.

Cheers, Tequila; super feisty and full of strength. Your potential to ruin lives is underestimated. You know how to hit someone just right. But they always come crawling back to you even after you spat in their faces.

Here’s to Bacardi, for making people feel useless if they go a day without a drop of your intoxicating flavor. I hated seeing you on the kitchen table. You are unbelievably disgusting and toxic to the impressionable. I will miss you less when you leave; since you have caused the most damage to the people I love.

Here’s to Bud Light and Miller, the dynamic duo. You two sure are something special. Your empty cans and bottles scattered like like a dreadful river on my kitchen floor every Monday morning. A nauseating mixture of your blue and gold colors sticking to the bottoms of my feet when I walk out of my room. You cut into my foot once; with one of your filthy, useless broken bottles. I panicked when I saw my own blood dripping on the floor disgustingly blending with your remnants. You two saw me weak and neither of you helped. Thank you for not only hurting me emotionally but physically as well.

Alcohol, you should be aware of the power you have on people, especially my own family. I am living with your impact everyday of my entire life. You didn’t expect me to resist and fight back; to discover the real you. But it’s too late now. I know all about your tactics to manipulate the people I love. It’s sad to know they don’t understand that you are hurting them. You are taking over their bodies, their brains, and their well being. I remind myself each day that they have a beautiful soul and the way they are acting is not their fault, it's yours, all yours. You will not have this power for long, enjoy it while you can. I will alarm my family of your deceitfulness and you will soon be an afterthought.

Good Riddance,

Your Favorite Bystander,

Shawntrell Lewis

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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