The Bottle

It sat and stared at me
Watching my every move
Staring, searching for my weaknesses
For its intent was pain

I had learned long ago
That to touch was to kill
Best to only look at the coming tide

The bottle knew its edges were sharp
But it did know how dull they were now
Time had passed since any victom at all

The bottle knew of my predictament
It could read my thoughts
It put on its most radient face and moved closer
My power to resist was fading quickly

Sparkling darkly in the night
It reached for my insides
Wanting to cause pain
But wearing the face of joy

Its soul reached for mine
Wanting nothing but one deadly embrace
One time to kill
One stroke of blind luck and the game would end

The bottle whispered my name
Its drugged and wizended interior knew my minds limits
It would not relent this time
It pushed on

As my mind screamed no, my body screamed yes
I could not relent its fatal touch
As my lips touched its poisoned neck
The sharpended glass pierced

Never again would the world remain
Time slowed to a melancholy pulse
But I rejoiced that the time was past
No more forks to be faced
Never again would a woman hold my love

For the bottle killed me but gave me life