The Bottle

24th July, 09:10

Hi guys

Today I am sharing a sonnet I’ve written – enjoy!

Georgia x

The Bottle

Smooth, silky, dry yet wet,
it goes down with ease, sliding
into my blood, gliding
into my soul; it abets,
but won’t let me forget.
Instead, it begins guiding
the memories that were hiding
so they merge; a perfect duet.
Time has passed; a constant drone.
Oh, why does it go on?
Haze. Smoke. Fog. I am alone,
my only friend long gone.
Nothing left but blood and bone,
the bottle my antiphon.

bottle pouring water on glass
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

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