‘I love you so, so much’ he spoke through the bottle,
Sip, by sip, when he went in he went full throttle,
With no one to stop him, no one to love him.
Nor was there anyone willing to shun him.
Liquid relaxation,
the burning sensation,
Is a way to escape the past,
When healthy, coping to him, comes in last.
A tingling in his stomach, a beer in his hands,
A sweaty feeling, coming from all his glands,
His bottle slips and cracks with a loud sound,
The man, no longer in his chair, was on the ground.
He sputtered and he spit, nothing could get out,
Rolling over to his side as pain spread throughout,
He wanted to be numb, but not to be dead,
He cried out with the throbbing inside of his head.
He crawled to a drawer knocking down a picture,
The glass cracked and the wood began to splinter,
An image of a woman, who seem very young,
Was pulled from the wood, as the man bit his tongue.
‘I love you, I love you so much’ his lips only breathed one last line,
May he rest peacefully with his wife for all of time.