You taste like alcohol and bad decisions,
like rockstar lives and hazy dreams;
you crack me open like a bottle of beer
just to throw me out when I’m empty.
And you cry stories down bottlenecks,
expecting them to answer you;
not seeing that I am the one who takes you home
when the bottles break all around you.
You kiss me like you kiss each bottle,
and drink me down ‘til I’m left with nothing.
And when I’m hollow,
shivering in a case with others just like me—
I’ll wonder
if I’m the one with the hangover.
