Alcohol IP

I am the bank that allows you credit to ruin your life.
I am the girlfriend that fucks all your friends behind your back.
I am the employer that saps your energy and pays you nothing.
I am the money that stops your from being yourself.
I am the only disease that tells you you don't have it.
I am the devil's agent, here to destroy everything decent and real.

Most people know me for who I am; a fairweather friend of no fixed abode,
best in small doses and kept at arm's length,
but there are many like you, who don't belong,
and it's you I watch as you play with the ridiculous idea that you can control me.

We used to get along, and you enjoyed my company,
but now look at you, a shadowy fool, just the way I like you.

Your slumber is deep but you're far from asleep,
you're unconscious, snoring, and your nightmares are boring.

Did I see you move? Perhaps you're about to rise.
Oh yes! There you are, and what will be your first waking words?
'Oh fuck', 'oh shit', 'oh my God', ' aargghh' or 'oh no'?
I'd laugh but I can't; I'm rotten potatoes.

There you go, running to the loo to puke it all up.
Did you make it in time? Oh yes, and now you''re off to the kitchen
for painkillers and water.
Look! I'm right there in the fridge!
But you're not desperate enough yet, are you.
There's still some life left in you, for now,
but that'll change in good time.
You'll see, and I'll be there for you when you need me,
when everyone else has abandonned you.

You should have seen yourself last night!
For an hour, you were fine
but then you were gone, laughing at your own jokes,
tapping your foot to music you hate,
nodding away to no one, your speech slurred and pained;
Everything about you was wrong wrong wrong.

Oh look, your wallet's empty
and your head's in your hands, poor dear.

That's it. Go back to bed where you belong.
Today's over and it hasn't even started.

Are you wondering what you did last night?
Can you remember? That's a good idea;
look at your phone and see who you called.
Yes, you bored Charlotte to death with your suicidal chit-chat
and it looks like Dave gave pretty short thrift.
Is it coming back to you?
You still care, don't you.
You care about what's happening to you
but you just don't know what to do about it, do you.

Why not have a taste of me right now?
Would it really be so wrong?