One for the road

The broken in places.

A bottle fell on midnight pavement

Shards of a night I cannot recall

Texted, called even left a message, but your only words were questions

So here we stand, lost in thoughts void with sense

It is only normal to claim unjust. touched

But normal is what people set

Sit, locked in Russian roulette, 

a loaded gun in my quivering untrained hand

the rush keeping me still and teeming with content

unless reincarnated as a bottle.