a bottle to myself
it's like a letter to a lover
who no longer wants to hear from me
oblivion
the only outcome
sense and logic hide away
a bottle to myself...
exactly what the hell
is really going on here
self-destruction
self-negation
abnegation
immolation
burning through
the skein
of lies i tell myself each day
in vino veritas
they say
in ignorance
and foolishness
ingratitude
and spiritual
idiocy
each decision
hides away
behind a screen
of self-deception
till i can
no longer pray
my love
who is no love
i scream
a scream that comes
from where my heart
no longer operates
as hearts should
'tis no wonder
that
you cannot find a way
of getting back to me
acceptable
to either of us
still i scream
and miss you
and go haywire
fucking women
that i do not even like
or fancy
in the meantime
so much have you hurt me
and i hate myself
for letting you
destroy me
in this way
and yet
despite the
pain
of losing you
of losing what we nearly had
of letting go
of what
i nearly - still - i nearly
feel i nearly
had
with you
a love
eternal
strong and stable
able to endure
whatever
life had chosen
to throw at it
still
despite
your own denial
of your own
confused internal
monologue
of who is worth
the effort
to accomodate
and who is right
and who is wrong
and who is who
at all
i still
cannot deny
the depth
of feeling
that you gifted me
and now
alone
unloved
unloving
fucking myself senseless
with a dismal string of
meaningless encounters
still i think of you
each time
i bring some other woman
to the point
of god's own
peak
and yet
i know
we were not meant to be
or you would still be writing me
your few words -
words of deep import
and sense
and love
in your own way...
a bottle to myself
a sunday evening
in the
alcoholic zone
without a hope of
any kind
of soul's redemption
i already
have encountered
brave and selfless
female souls
who have
seen in me
something
beautiful enough
to offer me their selves
and yet
i have not
properly
responded
for tis only you
i want
and dreams of
nothing i can do
no scheme
will
counterweight
this truth
we were not meant to be
against your will
now let me be...
i'm on my knees here
i am begging
for a clue
a way
to reach a place
from where
i can
assimilate
the lessons
that you came to teach me
beauty
love
and language
words that mean
more than
the dictionary
admits
a kind
of magic
if you will
a kind
of
kindness
where the everyday
bullshits
we kid ourselves with
fade away
into
the emptiness
of all the
nonsense
filling both our heads
and cast into
the abyss
of the past
and gone
and dead
and all
i'm left with
is
a memory
of what
i wanted
us to be
in vain
for i was not the One
for you
i know
and what is done
is done
and still the hope
within me burns
and still my stomach
writhes and churns
and twists
for still it seems to me
that something
outside us
was what it was
that would not let it be
perhaps
a jealous friend
perhaps an enemy
perhaps a force
within
you
or
in me
i cannot know
i can but
say
it is like this, my love
i will not let you
slip away
so secretly
so suddenly
so horribly
and endlessly
for you and i
were meant for more
than one short fling
of that i'm sure
but forces that we could not beat
that pushed us into
this
cruel distance
could not
countenance
our mutual
success
and balance
once together
beat us
pushed us
out where every
slightest touch
was full of doubt
now let us
cast these demons out
now let us
throw this shit away
now let us
find a way to say
the things
that we both need to hear
now let this day yet still be near
and yet...
a bottle to myself
now drunk
but not as drunk
as i am
and i cannot know
or say
how much
the alcohol
has made me
feel this way
my love
who is no longer
any love of mine
i am
repentant
and thus ready
to
repudiate
the sins of mine
against you
that still hold you back
from trying me anew
again
a bottle to myself
but only you
will take away the pain
a bottle to myself
and slowly
watch me
crumble
into pieces
in the gutter
half forgotten
in the rain
and washed along
and down the drain
a bottle to myself
and did i mention
the five whisky shots
that brought me
here
where
it seemed like a good idea
to drink
a bottle to myself
in weakness
self-destruction
shame
unable
to escape
the game
and sport
you make
of toying with me
sure
it's over
right
that's why you
stay in touch
with me
and will not say
goodbye
to me
and let me be
and set me free
control
and twisted spirit
defined by you
as independence
smiling
broad-lipped
over seas
of longing
touching no-one
loving less
and in your wake
a bloody mess
of
broken hearts
and hidden tears
my friends
all say
i must forget thee
you don't have
the grace
to let me
i don't have
the strength
to cast
your memory
away
nor words
to talk you back
into my life
it's
just a waiting game now
and while i wait...
a bottle to myself
will help me numb
the parts of me
you left alive
but broken
till
the great wheel time
comes rolling round
to wipe away
the shit
you handed me
in return
for the love
i gave you
and you
whose beauty
is external
only
better learn
to be alone
before
your face no longer
shines
beguiling
lying
siren sparkles
in the eyes
of men
one day
you will regret
rejecting me
so nastily
- like all the others
yes
you are too young
to play these games
with hearts
of adult men
and yet
too old
to act the child
and too timid
to permit yourself
to
grow up.
Bad Poetry by Wayne Myers