empty

A Problem of Habit

Empty Wine Bottle

I drank too much
last night
and now there are
too many
empty bottles
and pizza
underfoot
and more holes
in the stained walls
and the
empty space
is too loud.
My liver
hates me
almost as much
as I do
for getting pissed
again
on cheap whisky –
the sort that
makes her leave
on a grey
Wednesday morning
when the sun
can’t break through
the clouds
and I
can’t break through
myself.
I wonder if
I can just
drink myself
over the fall
and leave all this
behind,
where it belongs.
I could be
the first,
maybe.


© 2016, Gavin Zanker.

Photo by Dave Sutherland licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic.

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