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 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
