3:54 am

The faint sound of snoring accompanied by the familiar feeling of disappointment
– again he disappears into a world of Pinot Grigio and bitter lemon.
I wait for him to wake up,
To change and refresh.
But the cycle is repeated and the alcohol takes his hand,
Pointing a blaming finger to the wrong person
– control.
It is not wrong.
As in the eyes of alcohol he is in control,
It pulls upon its puppet strings,
Soaked in the strong smell of ethanol.

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