I sit with a bottle in my hand, it had just as well of been a loaded gun. The only difference between the liquor and a bullet is that one will **** me a little slower than the other. My soul is empty and devoid of any hope. I have tried to drown my sorrow and your memories, but to no avail. Now I contemplate how much I can drink before I pass out or become sober. Then if I sober up, what will I really do? I suppose I will just have to keep drinking until my soul is full of something that can take up the space of the emptiness I feel inside.