Undo my death with one click now.

Click back two relapses. Exhume Jane's corpse. Breathe life back into her. Put Bob's knife at my throat. Leave Jane in Atlantic City with her new boyfriend. Leave Bob, the father of two of her three children at home. Click me there. Go ahead. Put Bob's hand on Bob's knife. Put my throat on Bob's knife. Put my neck on Bob's lips. Click me to that moment which I knew must be the kiss of death. Click Paula, Bob and Jane's oldest daughter in the next room. Click open a pill bottle. Don't let me know that Paula is stuffing pills down her throat to kill herself. Click me not hearing Bob screaming at me. Click an ambulance on the way to answer Paula's cell phone call for help. Click the police arriving at the same time as the ambulance. Click the neighbors on their front porch. Click just, just, just, just drunk enough to not forget. Click me drunk enough to barely remember. Click soldiers. Click Vietnam. Click Post Traumatic Stress. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click all you want you fucking bastards. Click me sober. Click me drunk. Undo my death with one click now. Undo my fucking life.

 

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 12)