Thoughts from the Bottle

I remember how tightly you held me

 that night.

You were afraid to let go-

to let me out of your sight.

You were scared I would wander-

that I’d dwindle away,

for then you would have your own

prices to pay.

 

You hated me-loved me,

indulged in my flavor,

but threw me aside when

my confidence wavered.

You chugged down my knowledge,

And choked on my power.

You sobbed as your soul became bitter

and sour.

 

I fought hard your advances,

burned your throat, chest, and eyes.

But you were blind to my agony,

deaf to my cries.

You dragged me, again and again,

to your lips.

You were cold, shaking, sick-

but unable to quit.

 

Time slowly stumbled

as you ravaged and clawed.

You fought hard with the air, and

screamed at the walls.

Your once boyish features turned

ragged and knotty,

as your teeth clenched around my

cold, shiny body.

 

Your eyes were like windows to

a wasteland of dreams.

Your heart had grown mangled-

had torn at the seams.

All the while I waited for morning

to come.

All the while I waited for that first

ray of sun.

 

And at last through the window

The sun shone right through,

and you covered your eyes as a

monster would do.

With a long, chilling screech, you

relinquished your hold,

and away I went sailing through the

new air so cold.

 

Crash! Clamor! Bang!

Through the house those sounds tore,

as my body connected to the brown,

splintery floor.

I watched as my body-so cold, shiny, empty-

released to the air shards of glassy

connfetti.

 

My head in the corner,

and my heart near the door,

I wished you had never heard of my name

before.

I wished you would wonder,

and I wished you would think,

and figure out just what had pushed you

to drink.

But as you swayed like a giant

upon your own rotten feet,

I wished most of all that you had not

tried to cheat.

 

For you can’t escape darkness

when it whispers your name,

and you can’t hide your face

when you bow it in shame.

And you can’t wait for joy

Or success to come free.

And you can’t escape nothingness by indulging

in me.

 

I don’t have the answer as to why

life comes and goes.

I can’t walk atop water,

or part where it flows.

I can’t change the future,

or the present or past.

I can’t make the numbness I give

always last.

 

I am merely an object.

A mask, or a cloak.

I have no message, or thoughts

to evoke.

I am simply a bottle, a

vessel of drink.

It is up to you whether you swim or

you sink.

 

And with my head in the corner,

and my heart near the door,

and the rest of me scattered in bits

on the floor,

I know you won’t find it-

the meaning you seek.

You will merely remain a man

empty and weak.

 

And I know when you wake,

what strength you’ll have gained,

will be spent crawling over to find me

again.

So as I lie here waiting,

I pray that one day you think

of the dangers I carry-

of the dangers of drink.