Trouble with the decanters

At first you made me feel brave
But now, without you I can’t stop shaking
And aching, 2 parts tequila today and 1 part shame…
Because at first you made me feel pretty
Yet you never specified
How much weight came with adorability
and how unattractive I am with bloodshot eyes
If I can’t remember my name…
So I am 80 mint leaves of regrets, torn into a sticky rum haze
Since at first you helped me to sleep
Until I realized passing out isn’t the same
As REM; so now I am just a soaked cherry stem
Floating in a brandy snifter left at the bar when lights aren’t dimmed
See, at first you made every outing interesting and now
everything I do with you is erased from memory by morning somehow…
I am strained into a dirty martini glass un-chilled
Once satisfied by a shot that now takes a gallon to fill
Because at first I felt like you were the key to my creativity
But now you’ve usurped all my energy, enemies pity me.
Although at first you helped me to tolerate my fools
One is born every day and foolish is what I’ve become willingly, deliberately
Through violent hiccuping I am permanently transformed into
The after picture of long term effects that the the self righteous show in school
At first you were free but now I must pay the tab from here to suffering
As soon as I finish chugging this last 2 parts insanity and 1 part vermouth…

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