The Bottle

I can smell it from miles away, drawn to it like a shark to blood. My mind empties as I hold the bottle, My lips touch the glass as the world disappears. I cannot do it anymore, Everything begins to fog as the poison trickles down my throat. The girl I was walks out of the bar and the worst version of myself stays planted on the stool. My soul empties with the bottle and I become just a body My life darkens before my eyes Why suffer when I can feel nothing The body I have become tries to fight back, I quiet it with more poison I’m going to die this way A sobering thought quieted by still more poison There is no hope waiting at the bottom of the bottle.