I found my words at the bottom of an empty bottle of whiskey
They came out slurred and blurry
Bleary eyed and stained with amber poison and saline sadness
Pouring from my lips onto cardiac glaciers

Hesitation lost without a moral compass
And no cardinal directions to map the veins I felt pulsing with each earthquake of a heart beat
The tremors of my hands reminiscent of shaken foundations
Faltering from the strain of holding on

So I pause and wait for a sobering reply
A break in the silence to cease the spinning of my intoxicated hurricane
Liquid courage is more of a cheap perfume
Trying to mask the scent of shame

I found my words at the bottom of an empty bottle of whiskey
The answers must lie at the bottom of the next.