Another broken bottom of a bottle
to slip through, cutting myself as I do.
It takes a lot of effort, full throttle
I kick and squeeze myself down the neck,
just to plummet to the bottom and through,
again and again until my body is wreck.

I am the wrecks of the sea & the blood of the land.
I am the bottomless bottom & the outstretched hand.  

And this- this drenched, drab mess of language -
is the product of my mind and a waste of your time.

What it is is this, and only this it truly is:  

Nothing again, that's the start and that is the end.