Whiskey Bottle

The allure of the whiskey, wine and sparking champagne on the top shelf 

Beyond the tears and blurred vision there was my rescuer in a dire moment 

I opened the cabinet out of curiosity and with the intention, to discover another little piece of you 

Everything else on the shelf from soap , toilet paper, shoe polish, newspapers and magazines were just items and did not symbolise anything 

On the top shelf lay a brown pink wrapped gift basket 

The basket lay they're as though waiting for this very day for me to discover it

It symbolised a freedom to numbing imaginable pain, an escape from an ever aching heart 

I reached up on my tippy toes and stretched out to hug the basket

My comfort had arrived 

I thought of the gift giver. Never would you know, how you would be become my rescuer and the gift you had given would become so symbolic 

I took you away laid you amongst  all the other clutter I/we had to sort out

in his room 

The whiskey stood out of everything else in the basket including the pink shredded ribbons, you were my calling and  my maker to a cure. 

You had come to rescue me from never ending pain

A tot, I poured and the next and the next 

The pain would slip away with each sip and the drips of the alcohol would cuddle me into a subtle state of numbness until I could not cry anymore 

I become numb, the bottle became my comforter. The sounds of your cd's shimmered  in the background amongst the clutter and played imaginary tunes of your favourite songs and time passed as though it never happened.  

There I lay numb only to wake up the next day back into normative  form, yet surreal state of existence. I awoke to the same tune of ground hog day, never ending pain crushed yet again deep into my chest and to the core of my heart 

I cried endlessly once more. Only to repeat the same circle of hugging, cradling the bottle and it's drips into numbness only to wake up again. Oh hell had indeed arrived 

For how could you no longer exist