Liquor bottles empty on the kitchen table,
Broken glass scattered around,
The radio plays Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound,
The t.v. switching from static to cable,
Smoke fills the room, making a haze,
The carpet is stained with red wine,
The clock is ticking but stays on nine,
Wasted minutes turn into days,
The hallway is dim,
Broken picture frames line the wall,
The door is broke at the end of the hall,
Dust covers the trim,
The bedroom is quiet,
There's a lonely feeling,
She lays staring longingly at the ceiling,
Her chest feels suffocatingly tight,
The bed freaks as she rolls onto her side,
She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh,
No energy left to cry,
Tears on the side of her face are dried,
Her hand holds the bottle that held the pills,
Her breathing slows as she slips into sleep,
Her soul is no longer hers to keep,
Because the silence is still, and the silence kills.
