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empty bottles
...
the strangest sight,
is to see a grown adult,
misplacing courage to
replace it with sadness,
holding on to a baby blanket,
filled with the holes
of yesterday's empty promises
and stained with the tears of bitterness,
all because of a fear
that doesn't even exist,
and a belief that if they were to let go,
there would be nothing at all,
curling up at night after
cocktails,
clutching to empty bottles
that never live up
to the taste of warm breast milk,
and the screams
of despair
...
a very perceptive piece it ooozes of reality.
I am impressed, these words are the addicts words the words of addiction, and they are like whispers sweeping under doors and through cracks in a floor where life and death, hate and self-loathing are a return to déjà vu it passes for heaven on earth until the afflicted sit at the edge of hell. Reality does not lie... Reality just is.
You have such a fan following it is hard to find a poem that does not have numerous comments.
Peace
Dylan
"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"
Dylan Eliot
Thank you, my wise , dear
Thank you, my wise , dear friend in prose. I value your critiques and have learned so much from your exquisite expression. ♥
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...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "