Mush brain, empty stomach
Lifting myself, the day plummets
Walking to run,  running to drunk
Day is gone, soul depleting
Filing my patience, wanting
Hating myself, needing you
Itched, scratched, beaten, dragged
Pushing through, minute to minute
Face looks dead, body needs bed
Mind swirling, fingers play with anything
Sheets smoothe, pillow heaven
Thoughts of food, starved by time
Quakes of emotion, left behind
Bottles clear, from their emptiness
Still, there is air, trapped and unoticed
Corked and done with, Sealing me in
Silently on the cement with the other bottles