Self destructing

The smell of ice mixes with the wafting stench of sugar in the cola and smoke of the whiskey, a shaking hand tipping the slick, cold glass against trembling lips. Condensation slips onto numb fingers that harshly set the glass down, ignoring the faint whisper that tries to remind that the tumbler is thin, and expensive. The silence of the room too much as wayward fingers move quickly to dull the ache the silence has created, staunching the unwanted reminder of being alone…Again.

Unwanted memories are hard fought to come forward in the haze of the 7th glass in an hour, a song spilling from deep within a chest that hours before screamed in unchecked pain. Running the frosted glass over falsley red cheeks hides tears amongst the science that exists both within and outside of the glass. 

8th….Within 2 hours…And a meal…Unable to differentiate where the salt on a paralyzed tongue comes from, the tears or the food…Maybe both. Struggling to damn up the flooding human existence and wishing for the cold relief of a soulless night.

Soft melodies are spilling into ears that once only heard the drums of a still beating, yet utterly broken heart. “I’ve always been afraid of changing,” a cracked voice whispers, 9th stopping the words of the song that fills the void, and maybe silence was better. Easier. But the silence reminds of the loneliness, of the easily discarded existence bearing down upon shoulders that once thought hurt was worth the risk.

A 10th is needed…Desired to help with the numbness that still hasn’t taken hold and is so desperately wanted. This isn’t weakness…This is need at it’s basest form. Need for release. Need for freedom…Need for relief. 

The bottle is lost to the trembling hand, the thin glasses discarded for a more straightforward approach. Just for tonight, just for tonight. I don’t have to survive, be strong, to fight…Not tonight…Tonight I get to lose and be lost. 
The 11th dangling from the limp hand as darkness finally drowns a wounded mind. 

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