Michael Lee
I'm at a party when a kid asks me, "hey you wanna drink, bro?"
Uh, no thanks I don't drink anymore.
That's fucking lame.
Motherfucker, lame, weak.
Sometimes I gotta be boring - so I'm boring.
The parties I usually go to consist of coffee and feelings.
A few times a week, we sit in a circle and try to piece our lives together..
We don't remember them so clearly.
Besides, one time, when only weighing 130 pounds, I killed a bottle of Jack Daniel's in thirty minutes. The next morning I woke up in the back seat of my car naked. And neck-deep in leaves.
I am allergic to alcohol.
Every time I drink I break out in handcuffs.
I crap on the living room carpet, and then kick down a door.
To date, I put three cats on a treadmill, one dog in a cupboard.
Do not call me boring, Sir.
Once, I forgot where my house was. I was escorted by strangers, carrying fifty cookies and an umbrella butt naked.
But one time, I headbutted my best friend so hard I shattered his nose.
And one time I took more pills that I can remember. And accepted I'd be dead within the hour.
Don't you dare call me weak!
I have swallowed more pints of regret than you pump blood through your body.
Tell my father it was boring,
To look his only son in the eyes,
Tell him if he drank one more time,
You would not be welcomed is this house,
Tell my mother I am weak,
She was failing to hold back tears,
Driving me home from the psych ward,
She would see her son handcuffed to an emergency room bed,
She spent four years praying for my sobriety nightly.
You will not take this from her.
If you offer me a shot, there better be a trigger involved..
The strongest I have ever felt, was the first time I said no to a drink.
I have said no, every morning since September 29th, 2008.
I say no eighteen times before breakfast.
One for every step it takes to get from my bedroom to the fridge.
I say no ten times before work.
One for every billboard that tells me I was stronger when drinking.
I have said no more times than I can count.
One for every night my family lay awake trying not to imagine my headstone.
You ask me the question,
I do not hear the words you are saying.
I hear you ask me, "do you want to die Michael?"
No. I don't want to die anymore
