Turning Bottles Into Empty

Swallow a drink
For every one
You
Can’t take
No more

Tremor hands
Quiver lips
Thin like blades
You can taste it
You can taste it

I see your eyes
Turn
Bottles
Into empty
Beggin’ space
To give you
land

This poison runs in blood
Thick like
Wood
Against
A
Baby’s
head

I can beat you
I can break you
Down

With will

But you spill
Your past
Into my glass
And after five
I can’t feel the
Difference
Between death and life

Mood after mood
Promise after promise
I fall
I call you

Then

Stumble like your
Daughter bitch
Free to
Ask
For more
Until the
Storm reaches
Danger
And
I pass my glass
To my boy

Time
Stands still
When the
Rapid water
Moves beyond the
Overflow
And the
Swallow
Is all the poetry
Left in
Generations
Of dead