Bottom of a bottle

Is it futile to try to drown yourself
In the bottom of an empty glass?
Is it wishful thinking
To be able to kill the pain?
Are these things
Just figments of my imagination?
Or are they something more sinister
Spawned from the depths of my psyche?

These thoughts that I have
Are they so wrong?
To drain another flask
To make me forget?
What does my preacher tell me
To make me feel empty inside?
Is God truly in the church
Or at the bottom of a bottle?

Does my hand conspire with my mouth
To make me down another shot?
How many years ago did she leave me
What were our children's names?
What are these thoughts doing in my head
Why do they buzz like angry bees?
Am I truly drowning at the bottom of a bottle
Or am I drowning in me?

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Solis, in the year 426 AD.