At the bottom of a bottle
You find an isolation
When the liquor has run dry
You find a peace
When the bar is emptied
You find a serenity
When your soul bleeds dry
You find a tranquility
When you become hollow
You find a stillness
When you are all that’s left
But there’s nothing left of you
You find the meaning
You find the purpose
The point of the agony
The why of your despair
An enlightment at 40 oz
An epiphany at 750 ml
A truth unobstructed by the blinders of sobriety
That despite what we are taught
No matter what the movies say
Nothing.
Matters.
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Bottom of a bottle
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