I Remember Getting Drunk

I remember getting drunk one night. I was about
sixteen years old; I recall my sister and my cousin
covering for me, although I had put them
in an awkward position. I knew better,
and liquor was not my cup of tea;
yet I still fell into the temptation of drowning sorrows.

In my youth, I searched for ways to drown out
everything resembling pain. I tried to gain access
to anything promising to help me escape
from the dysfunction at home.

Buried past
God is unraveling me
for a greater purpose

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