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White lines on a mirror with a burning throat.
Another night drowning in the promises I wrote;
To myself, to her, to God, to the mirror,
Each vow dissolving, whispers get nearer.
The pill bottle clicks like a gun in my hand.
But I’m chasing the silence no day can withstand.
Whiskey-made prayers, benzo-born dreams,
Spinning in circles, extreme to extreme
She cried in the kitchen; I turned away,
Too numb to feel; too gone to stay.
Her gaze dawns crystal broke by my night
Now I walk shards in search of her light
My family fades, hot smoke in the rain.
Tired and shamed, I self destruct.
I begged. I pleaded, they slammed the door; SHUT!
Days blur to night it's a chemical storm
My soul reshaped but in fractured forms.
A ghost in the mirror with hollowed eyes,
This isn’t living; I chose not to die
And yet I breathe and curse the fact, that
Im wishing for time or a way to go back.
But hope tastes of ash too dry on my tongue,
Its a wet endless bottle that should carry me home.