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Bottle

 

It stands there

so bloody sure of itself

 

Half full

and me all empty

 

The fridge hums

hell freezes over

 

It's three in the afternoon

I wither-so-soon

 

The top spins

and the Ice cracks

 

The Glacier recedes

and the flood comes back

 

 

🌷(5)

◄ On The Ner River

Horror "Blood will have Blood" ►

Comments

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David RL Moore

Fri 23rd Feb 2024 10:46

Thank you for your reading and likes.

One rather strange posted and subsequently removed comment, but thanks for reading.

I have had friends and colleagues who for various reasons have succumbed to the bottle in a manner which resulted in their death. In all cases the picking up of the bottle was not the origins of their ultimate demise, in all cases tragic.

The often invisible and silent battle that precedes the picking up of the bottle is worth considering when we see the more apparent damage first hand. That many are unable to articulate and speak of their tribulations is part of their added torture.

I speak with some knowledge although not yet drowned or drowning (I should possibly reserve that judgement for those who know me well enough)

There is humour even in tragedy, keep smiling.

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