First Drink

At the age of 16, I stole a bottle of Jack.
My father finished his nightcap and fell asleep,
Leaving the bottle outside, unattended.
I silently walked over to the table,
It was half empty,
But something is better than nothing.

Excited, I sneaked the bottle up to my room.

In the dead of the night,
In the company of myself,
I had my first drink.
It stung, it burned
And I hated it.
But I love it too.
Just the sheer thrill of drinking it
was better than Jack itself.

Now, the thrill is long gone.
I drink for other reasons.
Everything is different now.

I drink to make it
through the day.

2 thoughts on “First Drink

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: