He is Drowned

Contours of chest holding hollow air
Silent as empty promise

Buried along side broken glass.

The muck between his ears, distant.
Easily forgotten

Now my neurons fire like tangled thread
Bottles drained
Each sip twisting meanings

I must be worthless

These hands were bread to serve
To save
There is worth in salvation
If it is all that I have left
I will deliver it to him