Hand On the Bottle

( HAND ON THE BOTTLE ) She stared at the empty room, but one thing was left on the table. Every time her world fell apart, when her life became unstable. She could see it in the corner of her eye, as the memories became so clear. Reality was too close to home, and it was building that same ole fear. She was powerless to this entity, so much she wanted conviction. But all it did was eat her up, this unhealthy and dangerous addiction. She faught back all the tears, her marriage her kids her life. Now all of it is gone, no more being a mommy and a wife. She struggled to keep her walls up, they always came tumbling down. She would always run to the wrong thing, when no-one was around. It took away the pain at hand, it was her release when it was strong. Now its just her and the bottle, and everything else is gone. Again she felt helpless, more cries but no-one could listen. It was staring at her dead in her eyes, without any restriction. Tears began to hit the floor, her foot was hard on the throttle. Her weakness won like times before, and she put her hand on the bottle.