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A M Ryder Sep 2018
Coke on my gums makes the whiskey go down like water
And so I feel nothing

I'll destroy myself alone so nothing can hold me back
So no one says "Enough."
I won't blame you for not saying something
I won't blame you for not "saving me"
How I can't be happy that you're happy

My ancestors are all angels up way too high and probably disappointed in what and who've I become
But still I don't care, they're all dead
Those lucky *****

Daylight breaks and the dawn has come
So I guess I've been up all night

These words are the very breath of my demons
And I haven't heard from an angel in ages
Through the eyes of the beast in me
I've become friends with the abyss
And it has politely invited me in

So another for the writer
Another bottle all by myself
To soak my soul
And drench any dream or hope of a happy life
I might have had left
Working piece that needs feedback, I found this in an old journal and I really see a gem in it.
Madison Aug 2018
Staying still
I try to drain
Every last
Little drop.
Tilting back, I
Grip the neck but
Don't break it, God forbid
I'm in no shape to clean up a mess
Though I'm an expert at making them,
I tell you what, I hate the television, all
those shiny happy people like in that
song I don't know the words to, but it's
obviously true, watching these shiny
happy lives with all of these beautiful
people who are probably ugly on the
inside, just like me, going home to sit
in their expensive new recliners and
grip the neck but don't break it, don't
make a mess that you can't clean up
drain every last drop even if you don't
really want it, 'cause it used to make
you feel much better, and now it's just
routine, like brushing your teeth and
trying to sleep and telling old friends
that you're fine, fine, just tired, so very
tired and I'm trying to stare through the
television to see these stupid phonies at
home in their own chairs, drinking from
a bottle like this one as if it might save
their sorry lives, like I'm trying to do
right now, tilting it back for just one
more drop, ****** there is no more
and I'm not done drinking but the neck
is slipping from my hands and I'm trying
to drink it down, **** it up when I let go
of the neck and drop it and there is a mess
for me to clean up, I tell you what, all that
broken glass and those elusive little drops
that could've made everything so much better,
could've fixed me but oh well, guess I can't
watch TV anymore, 'cause I've got a mess to
try to clean up right now, yes siree, guess
that even the shiny happy people have to
**** it up and fix it every now and then
just like me and you and everyone else.
My first attempt at shape poetry. Probably messed up a bit, but oh well.
r Aug 2018
deep
down under
There are things no one knows
nor understands
not quite yet.
They've drowned within you,
Because they were too heavy for you to take on
and one day they will resurface
but not quite yet.
THEN FIRE
crashing and burning
but we all know that water will extinguish the rising flames inside you
so you put it back in the bottle
for it to drown again
but not quite yet.
For sometimes these feelings are uncontrollable
and we have to embrace pain
suffering is inevitable

the drowning is what kills you.
MicMag Jul 2018
Wherever you are out there
Living your life so mindless
Of my inner agony
I hope you never find this

I hope you never see my lament
At how I dropped the ball
I hope you never see my confession
That I was the one
Who blew it all
Who threw it all away

I hope this bottle cast out to sea
Never finds you
Never floats up on your shore
Never reminds you
Of what our future held in store

Cause if it did
I would wallow in pity
I would wither in shame
I would shrivel from regret
I'd relive it the same

All over again

The pain
Would come flooding back
My heart under attack
The loneliness
Would overcome me again
As it did back then
I'd be paralyzed once more

All because you found this note
These words I wrote
With no intent to send
All my bottled up feelings
Released to the wind

I know deep down
You'll never see
This will never find you
As it floats across the sea


But -
Confession time -
I lied

Though it would destroy me
My hope rests in serendipity
And that one in a million chance
This message
Through its ocean dance
Somehow finds its way to you

And maybe even someday soon

Across this gulf
Beneath this moon

This prayer sent out o'er seven seas
Gently calls you back to me
Came across this one in a cache of old found poems.
Inspired by lingering regret and hearing the song by The Police over and over back in the Guitar Hero heyday.
Rosie Jul 2018
I have a hard time
opening up to people

Emotions terrify me

It’s like I’m on a rollercoaster
just waiting for the drop

I feel out of control

So
instead I bottle things up
I never talk about myself
or how I feel
I help other people with their problems

So I don’t have to deal with my own.
Emma Jun 2018
Not everyone can recover
In ways which are deemed
Acceptable.
I should know.
I have tried.
But the alcohol will always
Defeat me.

It’s gentle embrace will always
Wash away the bruises
Permanently etched into my
Skin.

It’s caressing touch will always
Help me to forget
How he said my name,
How he touched me,
How he turned my life upside down.

I know the bottle is not the answer,
I have tried to leave it behind. But
No matter how hard I try,
The bottom of the bottle will always be my solace,
My safe place,
The only constant I have left.
It is the only way I know how to go on.
Jolan Lade May 2018
I'm trapped.
I'm trapped in a bottle.
Its got an engine, and goes full throttle.
There is nothing stopping this bottle, one day it will hit a wall, smash. now a billion pieces of glass with me in the middle, free of my pickle.
Bleeding but pleasing, now I can die.
I didn't survive.
My cockpit
It sits there on the sideboard
Or on the mantle shelf,
And after such a long time
You don’t notice it yourself.
But should you have a visitor
Or younger child come by
It will spark interest anew
And gasps of “Me oh my!”

It’s then the curious wonder
How the ship was put inside,
And where the opening’s concealed
And was it hard to hide?
And if you put it in there
How many times you tried?
And if it went in through the neck
How could it be so wide?

It’s then you tell the story
Of going to the store
To find a bottle of good clear glass
With a shape worth planning for.
Dimple Haig is famous,
Carduh’s pretty fair,
The first one is triangular,
The other one is square.

The bottle must be decanted,
When empty cleaned and dried,
And a careful measure taken
Of the dimensions inside.
It’s then you render drawings
Of the ship you want to make,
And plan out going backwards
Every step you’ll have to take.

First you carve the hull
Of wood with grain that’s fine,
Then step the masts with hinges
So they fold down in a line.
You add the sails and rigging,
Check how they’ll *****
When’s time to pull the halyards
Through the bottle’s neck.

It takes months to finish
Doing a little every night,
I had my children watching
And remarking at the sight.
They saw me put in plasticine
To mold and shape the ocean
And carve wave crests with a spoon
To give the water motion.

When at last the time is right
And everything is ready
You carefully set the ship upon
The sea and hold it steady.
Then pulling on each halyard
The sails are slowly raised
And those who watch the process
Stand enchanted and amazed.
My great grandfather sailed to New Zealand on a ship called the Wild Deer in 1872. I have always loved ships in bottles, and one day decided I would drain a pretty bottle of its contents and put the inspiration back inside. It took three months to complete the project.
Abby Jo Apr 2018
One bottle of wine all to myself
Didnt even need a glass
Just drank straight out of the bottle
Not one person aware
Just as I prefer it
Im sure it will come to a head
As soon as my tongue touches that one drop
that will push my limit
Everyone will hear it time and time again
Cant keep it bottled up
But for now, I'll keep the bottle up
Don't want to talk just yet, but it will allll come out eventually
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