Bottles

Nobody drinks alone Except when all alone Toasting callous skies Rubbing bloodshot eyes Mumbled words of drag Dreary days gone stag Cursing at double doors Calling hope a whore Stumbling for a dance Shots of circumstance Falling to the floor Spilling whiskey’s war Sipping anguished age Dregs of drunken rage Spinning shards of glass Cutting friends that pass Emptied bottles of pain Relics without refrain Collecting broken lies Closing bloodshot eyes