5 Bottles

How many whiskeys would it take to drown me? I know for certain one bottle would never be enough, it would only help to numb the pain. The 2nd bottle would be the one that takes away the distorted perceptions of a mistaken reality in which I have gazed into so many times and only found myself looking back. The 3rd bottle would take away my speech and the words would not come out as if they were chained to a dead corpse holding them back in hope of an existence to a mortal plane to which he has no right or purpose to, let alone any belonging.

The 4th bottle would take away the screams which have haunted me for so many years, I have always found those years to be clawing at my skin and scraping down each particle of flesh left on these useless bones, which no fire would burn away or even turn to ashes when the time comes.

The 5th bottle would take away my breath which has held me captive since I was born, always threatening to leave me like everyone else and I always gave in to those threats. In fear, I made so many mistakes. Can I be blamed for them or can I blame each breath for its threats and deceptions?

So 5 bottles and I am gone, 5 bottles to end something that has never been ended. Many have tried and I have always hoped, as each night passed me by I hoped it was the last but as each morning arose, a disappointment in me weighed me down to a life which was never mine or could have accepted me.

So 5 bottles and I am gone, 5 bottles in which I drown and hope never to return.

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