A Subtle Rebuttal
It’s hard to hide your lies
When you can smell them on your breath.
You exchanged your friends for fifths,
And now you’re sad ’cause all that’s left
Are empty bottles in the closet
And old stains upon the floor
‘Cause your new crowds not as comforting
As the one you had before.
But they’re fun, and that’s what matters, right?
Popularity is key.
But they’re leaving soon -
Won’t be needing you -
At their universities.
Can you hold a conversation
When you’re too smashed to think?
Do they like you ’cause of who you are,
Or ’cause of what you drink?
You like to tell me that you love me
But that’s up for debate.
Don’t tell me that you’ll walk the line,
When you can barely walk it straight.
It’s a substance, not a problem-solver.
Don’t get the two confused.
If I could find your darkest corner
And dig out the light for you,
I’d burn it up so bright
It’d put Chicago’s blaze to shame.
And I’d use your clear elixer
To help fuel that glowing flame.
Then your darkness would be gone,
And your pain would be but ashes;
No longer needing cliche therapy
To be the Band-Aid for your gashes.
Each time I see you stumble
I feel my skin begin to bruise.
My throat, it burns. My lungs, they ache.
That toxic tonic’s drowning you.
Since when did you get too mature
For innocence and laughter?
Why must good times Friday night
Mean headaches the morning after?
I want to see you break that glass
But I’m sure you wouldn’t dare.
I’d like to leave, but know I couldn’t.
Who else would hold back your hair?
It’s sad to see the Virgin
Slowly slipping from her throne.
But if this is what you want,
I’ll still be there to drive you home.
You could put out my light five hundred times
But I’ll strike up that flame again.
I won’t let this sickness take you;
That bottle’s not your only friend.
