Poison Bottles

Posted: August 1, 2016 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

You break the bottle without a drop of alcohol staining the carpet

Laughs, giggles, smirks, dumb sentence follows your lips

Blood flow increases, my eyes narrow, clinched, ready

An act of a lifetime starts, swooping down to steal my anger

And like always I look the other way

And the next morning when I wake up alone

I ask myself

What’s worse, the fact she breaks wine bottles without a drop,

Or the fact that she’s so far gone?

Either way my carpet isn’t getting destroyed, but I am

Whether I know it or not, slowly, each drop, each sip…

Advertisements
Comments
  1. doubtpuppet says:

    Nice writing man. Your English puts most English people to shame for what it’s worth

  2. intrudesite says:

    A beautiful poem of reality o alcohol dependence. It is not the carpet , it is me who is being destroyed….Awesome post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s