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Brown Glass
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Ramblings from a Drunkard As I lie in the bottom of the bottle. Crying and wondering who has stolen the life from me? I had only wanted to quiet my sorrows for a little while. How did I lose nine years of my life pretending everything was picture perfect? Where did I lose the man I set out to be?
Drowning down in the bottle. Refilled wtih bitter tears of the lost dreams. I struggle up the throat of the brown glass prison. I strangle myself out of the opening. Choking in the freshness that burns the stale life from me.
I am the one that threw away the years. I feed them to the bottle demon. I gave up living until I was staring up from my casket in the ground. I laid there wishing it wasn't true, but it was too much reality. My spirit broken again.
All healing. Knowing I am strong enough to become human again. To not drown myself in bitter tears caugh in a brown glass prison...
Bad News
I was thinking of alcoholism yesterday. I never drank heavily, got hooked on Merlot once and quit. Dreams are not all they are advertised to become. You get there, attain the goal, then wonder, like you, where did the years go. I could have been at the bottom of a bottle or climbing out of one over the time wasted on this. We are never satisfied - it is our nature. The grass on some other hill is always full of better tasting clover. Drink water ~a~
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Thank you
I wrote this in response of a poem my little sister posted. Just came to me and wrote it self. Long I have dwelled in the bottom and wonder why I had no time and why I still felt sad.
Then I crawled out and have stayed out since. I loved my liquor but love life more. I destroyed myself and came out a better person.
Again, thank you. Yes, drink water. I may go swim in the river soon. *grins*
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I am an artist of words as well as paints.