The tension rises,
The blood boils,
As I finish my last drink.
I raise the half full glass,
Saluting the past mistakes,
As new ones join in for a drop.
In the bar of contempt,
Never sitting alone,
Always joined by thoughts of doubt,
I find comfort on the end of a glass.
How deep the rabbit hole goes,
But always hoping,
No matter how hard I hit the bottom,
Tomorrow I will get my chance to rise again.