on my knees
a scavenger
picking around
like a buzzard
like a fucking fiend
grabbing empty bottles
from the trash
nursing each drop
at the bottom of the bottle
like a child in my womb
but god, this is no child
no spawn but that of Satan
this is Lucifer's spit
the devil's brew
his saliva, his blood
oh, now it's in my blood
a few drops and i'm feeling okay
well on my way into tomorrow
and the tomorrows after that
each passes too quickly
friends slipping through my fingers
like water, not whisky
if i could learn to hold them
to nurse them as i do
each bottle, each needle
oh god, i'd find love
but instead i curl up
at the bottom of a bottle
and watch the days blur
all the same
it's all the same
i would say
god help me
but god
that ship has sailed
it's been too long
i'm too far gone for that