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[ Short Form & Affirmations ]

Whiskey and I


I’ve had a forbidden love affair with whiskey for as long as I could remember. From the first taste on the stoop of my grandmothers apartment, from my Uncles Jameson bottle that I begged to try as a kid, til the very moment when I realized I hated myself so much that everyone’s life (including my own) would be much better off if I pulled the trigger on the 9 pressed in my mouth. 

See the beauty with whiskey is the persona. I can be whoever I want to be and I like control and power. It suits me. I’m Irish I have an excuse. My parents hate me I have an excuse. My father is dead, I have an excuse. Im just having fun, that’s my excuse. I’m gay and Catholic and going to hell anyway, I have an excuse. I have the power. The whiskey let’s me be in control. The whiskey let’s me be the young kid hanging out with high school stoners and allowed into all the parties. I’m in control. The whiskey let’s me be okay in this skin that normally makes me so sick to my stomach. The whisky makes me the class clown. The whiskey makes me the bad ass. The whiskey makes me attractive. This whiskey makes the conversations and joke flow so effortlessly. I am in control. The whiskey makes it okay to want to kiss the boy. The whiskey makes it okay to hide the real Tara. If I drink a little more no one will even know because I have this tall handsome man now sleeping in my bed. The whiskey brought him here too. I am in control. The whiskey brings the fights. The whiskey brings the rape. The whiskey brings the cutting classes. I am in control. The whiskey brings the black outs. The whiskey brings the drugs. I’m only having fun. The whiskey makes him angry but I need the whiskey to be with him so drink some more and you won’t even remember laying down with him anyways. I am in control. The whiskey brings the suspensions. The whiskey bring the arrests. The whiskey brings the probation.

 The whiskey brings the punishments. I am in control. The whiskey brings the ‘most likely to miss graduation’ category in the year book. Fuck it, live up to it now. I am in control. The whiskey brings the no show to graduation. The whiskey brings the boot camp instead of college because no chance of scholarships now with not completing high school. I am in control. The whiskey brings the crystal meth. The whiskey brings the relief from the lack of sleep because war is on repeat night after night in my head. The whiskey brings the black out every time it touches my lips. I am in control. The whiskey brings me to being carried over a soldiers shoulder to get me back in time to deport. The whiskey brings me discipline problems from my captain. I am in control. The whiskey brings me restriction, 2 months without pay, and not allowed to go out to port in Signapore on my 19th birthday. I am in control. The whiskey brings me lost in the desert in Dubai and almost missing the military deporting back to America. I am in control. The whiskey brings me to prison. I am in control. The whiskey brings my career to its knees. The whiskey brings the steady hand I need to be normal again. The whiskey brings me to rehab. I am in control. The whiskey whispers to me every night I don’t play with her. The whiskey touches my lips once again because I am in control, this is what I am want not the what the whiskey wants. The whiskey brings me liver problems. The whiskey brings me cocaine. The whiskey makes it okay that my wife no longer loves me. I am in control. The whiskey brought the divorce. The whiskey brings me whatever I want and I want it all. I am in control. The whiskey brings me a different girl every night (at least it’s not a man). The whiskey brings me the heroin. The whiskey bring the courage to rob the dealers in Newark. The courage to sell everything that isn’t nailed down. The whiskey brings the robberies. The whiskey brings the endless arrests. The whiskey brings the isolation from everyone I love. I am in control. The whiskey brings the shame. The whiskey brings the guilt. The whiskey brings the self loathing. I am in control. The whiskey brings the hate. The whiskey brings me to a gun in my mouth. I am in control. The whiskey brings me freedom, because when that trigger is pulled its off to the mother land. Whose in control? The whiskey.

Written by: Tara Bowers

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