I remember when i was just 13
When i stole my first bottle of Jack.
A hobo was passed out on the street
Clinging to his bottle solace
Gingerly, i stepped over to him
And stole the bottle from him.
It was half empty already but it was better than nothing.
Excited, i went home, sneaking in through my window.
In the dead of night, i had my first drink.
It burned and i hated it.
But at the same time i loved the thrill of it more than drinking itself.
But that's not why i drink now.
The thrill is long gone, and i've gotten much more fucked up on different things.
Now i drink to make it through the day.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Thoughts
Non-FictionTbh i can write description but we all have this "overthinking" period that comes after midnight..Most nights i cry myself to sleep and keep overthinking. These are just some of my thoughts. Some are cheerful and some are depressing.. some are good...
