He insults you.
You take a drink.
He yells at you.
You take another drink.
He whispers that he loves you during heated nights at his apartment.
You consider another drink.
He hits you.
Your bottle is empty.
You walk empty streets, drunken off pain and alcohol.
You had been sober for months.
You are not sure how to tell your friends that you relapsed.
You make it to the Boulevard.
You need a drink.
It is close to dawn.
Nightgoers whisper about you from across the street.
You collapse.
A drink would be nice right now.
You wake.
You are unsure of where you are.
Inspector is standing near you.
He is saying something.
Your throat is dry.
You try to respond.
Your voice fails you.
You turn over.
You think about Slick.
You need a drink.
