Remember at the End of the Day, It’s All about Her
The words are the only bits that have survived my life. The only elements that have passed the test, time after time. They are always there.
The reality is that it’s me that has betrayed them. I never found a way to live with them when I drank, and I’ve never found a way to write them once I stopped. Still, they stay with me. When there is nothing else…as there must never be…there are the words.