Shadowing My Fears.

The bottle and glass were in his hand, he no longer knew what was right and wrong. He acted on emotion and tempered with impulsiveness. He was weak.
The glass tipped backwards, spilling the contents in his mouth. Before the warmth bloomed in his stomach, the burning seared him. He coughed and liquid spilled across his lips, coughing up most of what he swallowed down. He tried again, but this time he didn’t hesitate.
Amber liquid burned a little less and settled deep in his stomach. He blocked out the guilty feeling of drinking away his insecurities but ignored it with another pour.
The feeling made a tingling sensation down his limbs until he was unaware he still had fingers.
Three, four, and four and a half glasses down.
His head felt light but his eyes felt heavy from crying, would another glass make his tears turn into golden fire? His system was filled with it.
He grasped his head and cradled the bottle. He in a surreal unconscious state of mind. He was the shadow of what he feared the most, his Dad.

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