Whisky et nothing

I kissed the bottle of whisky, trying to find the wrong solace of an ancient suffering, hoping to heal some part of my new sick me, ant that took me again in this cold and brave weather. I fill up with soda the stained and dirty glass hosting the dancing bubbles at the rhythm of a Nick Cave's song gave me the most perfect way to represent what just happened...

I asked to the bottle all the things about the life, even my end, hoping that the magical effects of its powers could cast a spell and would get me out of this disease, asking and crying to her until the glorious image of her pink and softly lips appered, just to kiss her once, and forget all about her... So Easily.

The Bubbles float on the glass, spinning and playing, approaching to the top, and when they reach it, they dissappear with the corrupt air, as the words, hopes and lifes that get vanished in sixty seconds, one by one gets their end, one by one hurts like a hell.

Breathing the sour useless tears
Breaking Faithful lights with a blink
Turning Holy dreams in to nightmares
Kissing the Bottle of Whiskey
Trying to get that fake solace
To forget all about you
So easily

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