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Tip of the glass

Tipping the bottle
the sharp taste
rolls over your tongue

A burning sensation
as the poison makes its way
towards your stomach

Drowning in it
killing its victim slowly
the pain lessens
or merely gets clouded
as does the mind

The heavy thoughts
the burdens
the tears
Become shadows
and then pool together

No dreams
no deeply furrowing thoughts
only the darkness

Downward
plummeting into unconsciousness
reaching the bottom of the bottle

The morning comes
pounding head
reintroduced thoughts
the sorrow of life
come back into the picture

A new day
a new bottle
Same bottom
until the end
Written by PoetryPicasso
Published | Edited 27th Mar 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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