he loves me when he’s drunk.

when he’s sober, i am entirely too much.

when he’s drunk, he can be as great as he wants.

when morning comes, reality sets in, and no work has been done.

there’s magic in the high, and self-respect in the sobriety.

we walk the find line of a joint dreamworld.

when i drink too, i’m not sure what’s real and what we’ve made up in our heads.

such fine problems to have, building our own demons.

if only i wasn’t the only one who had to fight them.