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
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