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This Drink Makes It Worse - Mikhail Bennett
The bottle shapes the way
My hands do now
I drank to quiet
Well, won't quiet down
My son walked out
The door stayed wide
But every sip just deepens
What's inside
I chased relief
At the bottom of sin
But sorrow, it learned to swim
This drink is not the way
I know it now
It doesn't heal
It breaks me down
It sharpens every tear I hide
Turns memory into a knife
I'm sorry God, I chose this road
This cup made heavier the load
The night goes louder
When I pour it in
The past comes by
With a violent grin
I thought I'd lose the aching time
But pain just doubled with the wine
Your word was calling while I reigned
Grace waited while I drank again
And this drink is not the way
It's clear
It sears my fear
Kills my ears
It stole my strength, not just my rest
And left me lower than my best
Forgive me Lord, I lay down
I need your hands, not this way of
Pouring out
And choose the cross
I pour it out
And choose the cross
