At the bottom of this glass - stark reality-
Liquid fire is all I see.
Burning it's way down - claiming my soul-
All I need is this bottle I hold.
Images swirling - my life flies past-
As I reach for another cold glass.
Nite is falling on my window ceil-
This bottle I clutch is all that's real.
Hands shaking as I pour one more-
Dignity and self-esteem go out the door.
Demons - they lurk at the bottom of the glass-
Dredging up sins from the past.
Deep in this bottle I try to hide-
It don't stop the agony I feel inside!
Oh , how I need this or I will die-
The alcohol consumes me and I start to cry.
One more glass- I feel no pain-
This is all keeping me sane.
My bottle and me - Darn! There goes the phone-
Why can't everybody just leave me alone?
Darkness flooding - engulfing my soul-
The alcohol numbing me from the cold.
How do I fight them? How do I get past-
The demons lurking in the bottom of the glass?
Written By Linda M. Hill
