The haunting sounds of our laughter hover within my mind,
Leaving the bittersweet kisses of memories to meld
With the angels and demons who are far less than kind
As each flap of their wings reminds me of how I fell
After walking away from a love I have yet to embrace.
My hands shake as I reach for another amber-tinted bottle
To drown the sorrow within an ever-freezing heart;
The blissful burn of familiar poison oozes down a raw throat to coddle
A sadness so thorough and deep, that I haven't a doubt
That it will ever part ways with such a disgrace.
My soul yearns to drink myself into someone I no longer recognize,
The loneliness and self-abhoration becoming my best of friends;
My faded eyes wander back to the bottle that is surely how I die
And muster every last ounce if rage I have ever felt,
Hurling the haunting tint of that amber across the blackend room.
Tears stream down porcelain cheeks again, but this time in hope
That perhaps I do not want to leave this world if I cannot have
A love never embraced, perhaps I can climb back up this slippery slope,
And maybe I can escape from my self-inflicted attack
And my premature doom.
My drive is strong against my inner conflicts,
But I fear the amber bottle's haunting glint.