glass of chaos

The glass is too close,
Top it off, and it hangs off the edge,
What have you done to me?
I never used to cling to the bottle,
There was never a comfort in the liquid that burned my throat,
But when you crashed into me,
That changed,
Everything about you was chaos,
Beautiful and abrupt and wild and in love,
But you weren’t a constant,
Not yet anyway,
So I needed to find something, anything, to cling to in the chaos of you,
And the bottle, the glass of whatever I poured at the time,
That was it; it was there, helping me relax,
Helping me come to terms with my new reality of you,
And I’m not saying it was the best choice I’ve made,
But it was a natural one,
And that should scare me,
But… I can’t bring myself to be afraid,
Not of the poison that carries me through,
But that it keeps me immune from your chaos,
(until you become too much and I drink and drink and throw it all away
only to open another bottle as the sun fades in the sky and the stars call for me)
So top me off, I’ve grown used the edge by now,
And lets see how long I can hang off the edge until chaos explodes.

5 thoughts on “glass of chaos

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