Mellifluous Murmurs

Bottoms Up

I grasp upon the bottle of intoxication from my reach

The lady behind the counter doubted my age

I smiled at her to encourage her hesitation

What was my doubt didn't last for long

Held behind this thick glass is something I would remain

It wasn't my dignity this time

I was hoping it was a minor probability

I panicked

and I shivered....

My fingers grasped the fifty dollar bill

I slid it across the counter

This liquor stores the color of my face

Or perhaps what lies beneath this life

It belongs to me

It is mine

My soul is melted in this bottle

Fermented towards splits of bubbles and bitterness

it sounds like me..

That sounds like me

that was when I realized

I melted my soul into this malt beverage of throat-burning substance

I didn't do it

The pain did.