There is only one answer
I want to hear
When I ask each day
To myself
Can I drink ever again?
Part of me believes
I have a choice
Can you believe
That I can't believe
"I'm an alcoholic"
I know
Wine is my drug
I must remember
It is the great lie that
Addiction comes looking the way I think
Not what you've read
Drunk, poor luck, addict, abuser
Not you and definitely not me
We are quiet drinkers
The fun never stops
Yes I am one of the secret collection
Built this way
Having the same glass of wine again and again
Who in the mirror
Cannot meet my own eye
I have this image in my head
Of a future scene
That almost didn’t happen
It is my daughter
My age now and I am much older
She sees me
At dinner
Not drinking
As she always has
Nothing different
Nothing remarkable
But what she does not know is
There is another reality
A different future
That never happened
But was once inevitable
In which she sees me at dinner
Enjoying wine
As I always have
Nothing remarkable, nothing different
Except this time, she wonders if I
Have a problem
This sucking question
Will possess her every drink at her own dinner table:
Will my daughter inherit this from me?
It will be her choice
Just as it is mine
Beginning today
As it always does
And always will
My daughter will lack this question
Free from the parasite that didn't take
Seeing herself as she is
Looking herself in the eye
Never knowing another way
