A tear wells in my eye as a hear that song, Why do I let it crawl around in my skull. That song amplifies every ache. So much so that I can barely hold on to the bottle clutched in my hand. The only thing the keeps it there is my lips constant yearning for the content inside.

“Broken this fragile thing now And I can’t; I can’t pick up the pieces.” I scream at the top of my gin saturated lungs. The world is a blurry mess of color and sound. “HERE I GO, SCREAM MY LUNGS OUT TRYING TO GET TO YOU, YOU ARE MY ONLY, MY ONLY ONE!!!” I screamed over the honking hook. Then in the distance I heard aloud crash. The impact was unfelt behind a gallon of gin. If I die tonight don’t invite Bobby to my wake. Good night Cleveland.