Bottom of a bottle.

Once again,
I find myself
Staring into the bottom of
An empty bottle,
Bleary eyed and lonely.
Texting anyone
That would come
And waste some time with me.

Once again,
I find myself
Reaching for the crate of beer,
Conveniently placed by my side,
Because if this bottle didn't help
Ease the pain of loneliness,
Then the next one is bound to be a winner.

If the next one is a winner,
Maybe I won't decide
I need company
Now.
Because my own company
Just reminds me
That all I've ever been
Has been made up of drunken mistakes,
Empty bottles and
Empty crates,
Bad hangovers,
Mental and physical.

It has not been a good day.
All of my ghosts decided to haunt me
On this day,
So I performed an exorcism
With half a crate of beer.

It hasn't worked.
I'm just staring into the bottom of the next bottle.
Still bleary eyed,
Still lonely.