PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If you lived in a glass of whiskey,

Your life would be as sour

As fresh lemons,

The ones you picked

The day

you wished that your life

Would someday become more

Than a pile

Of bitter molasses.



You would sing

In your glass prison

Of fluttering bubbles.

The bubbles that give your whisper

A sharp fragrance

That even makes you wince

With every breath.



Your voice cuts into your throat

Almost punishing yourself

For making

The wrong prayer come true.



The clothes you wear

Are soaked with your own weeps

Although you cant stop smiling;

Cant stop laughing.



The sun reflects outside the glass,

You want to touch it.



HELP you cry,

As your fingers smear on the slick surface.

A peice of glass breaks off,

Cutting your hand,

Releasing a scream

That shatters the remaining shelter.



Your eyes notice the dark hue of your blood,

Almost exactly the same shade

As the pool beneath you.

More crimson flows out of you

Until your tender heart

Quits crying.



Justine Zingg

6/17/03