At The Bottom Of A Bottle

I stared longingly

At the small, slender bottle

Doused in color and pallor

Promising no tomorrow


Hard, pale, and bitter

The tablets looked like magic

An alluring antidote

Against pain, past and present


They vowed to fill

The space within my heart

The gaping void

My spirit could not withstand


My hands trembled softly

As my spirit quaked and croaked

Under the weight

Of life’s morbid monotony


I dreamt that my spirit

Would soar up to the heavens

Rendering me thoughtless

Leaving me at peace


But I could not commit

To the power of eternity

When life is so fragile

And tomorrow is uncertain


I could never allow

My spirit to vanish

Into thin air

By my own hands


I absolved my soul

Of the lies I believed

That life was a burden

An excuse to escape


Those magical spheres

Remained in the bottle

Sinking lower and lower

As my spirit rose above


Scattered and shattered

My spirit’s splintered fractals

Melded into one

As the bottle dropped before me


My spirit remains

In joy and despair

My soul will never lie

At the bottom of a bottle


Kelly Douglas

Kelly is an avid writer and mental health and disability advocate with a focus on personal growth. She is passionate about using her life experiences to help others. Her ultimate goal is to make a difference in the world -- no matter how small. When she is not writing or educating others about life with disability and mental illness, Kelly can be found listening to music and cuddling her cat.

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