Strange Poetry

Remake: Jack Daniels

-Not finished but in the works-

Title: I'm drunk and it's kinda hard to breath without you but maybe one more shot and I won't be suffocating anymore.

If father's teach you who to love than my daddy's name was Jack Daniels.

We have to learn about the dangers of alcohol through our younger years of parties and adventures but I never learn and maybe that why I chose to survive in the toxic atmosphere of my past mistakes.

My first love was a bitter taste of cheap vodka when I was 16 years old and I never had my first drink.
I felt addicted instantly to the feel not the taste; because you now were the one I drunk texted at 3 in the morning when I was out of substance and all I could taste was the bitter after tone you left me with late at night when you crawled out my window after I fell asleep
All I could think of was your touch that made the pain burn like hard liquor in the back of my throat.

After so many years I now know I have a heart because I felt it break when you left.

Again.

Because I've always had a taste and found myself coming back time and time again.
But now I see vodka was easier to swallow then the fact you weren't coming back.
Cause vodka leaves me with tears in my eyes and thats all I've ever known from men.

My second experience left me raw.
He tasted like beer; bitter to the taste, something I could handle and no longer a headache.
But beer was never an acquired taste although it made me feel what I've always craved, it could not turn off everything and I always wanted something more.
He was cold beer in a broken bottle nothing more then shattered glass that cut you when you touched it and every time I tried he cut me deeper in the end you could see bone.
Cause beer leaves me raw. 

I now know love and alcohol don't make a good mix because I find myself getting drunk just to be able to to say your name. And my body can no longer take it.
I want to be over you but every time I open a new bottle, I get halfway through and I'll be calling to see if you want to see me for one more night.
Cause when I kissed him I taste stale whiskey on his breath.
Just like my daddy.
He left me broken and hung over
Cause whiskey hurts going down and coming up

But that is over and I know years from now I will sit under the stars, drinking a bottle of wine, and remember.
He tasted of Jager; sweet to the taste and seemed to ease my past mistakes.
And that was enough for me.
I fell in love with the home I build in him holding every dark secret left in me, that can only find it's way out after a couple drinks.
I thought jager never hurts, jager doesn't recognize but all I learned was jager left a sweetness in me that made me overlook. Jager wasnt as hard to take.
Jager tasted like cream.
But jager still burned in the back of my throat.

Moving on to hard liquors brought me ease at first but only hurt worse when I became to trust.
He was rum and pot.