no problem here.

I don't have a fucking problem-
I have a bitch
Who dares take my bottle,
Judges me.
I walked into
my new family reunion
Intervention;
it even sounds nosy.

My eyes burn; mouth filled with feathers
Their concern chokes its way down my throat
It would go down better with booze
Vodka under the sink in the bathroom
My secret horny lover; waiting
"I have to take a piss.."
"you don't have to fucking follow me"
First sip takes the spins away
I pour some in the toilet
Has to sound good, doesn't it?
The rest makes this shit bearable
Another empty bottle under the sink

He broke my soul
Five fucking years ago
Breathed every breath out of my
Spirit starved body
Left a corpse of a self
To carry on with the life
He didn't want
To share
Maybe vodka poured into the holes
Left me less empty
But I get on
I got somebody else now
A bottle and a new bitch
But I really don't have
A fucking problem
Do I.