You find your regrets as they trickle down the bottle, the last drops at the bottom of your search for relief. The clink of glass as it hits the table was supposed to mean bliss. But instead it’s the thunderous clap of unwanted memories exploding in your mind. Fireworks with colours that fade into bitter, black smoke, lingering in the stagnation of your thoughts.
Perhaps, you think as you open another, it will only take one more. And as the air hisses free and the foam spills, you hope your thoughts will do the same. Forever away.