Refill?

Aren't you the solitary one

Alone,pickled in your poison
soaking solace from a bottle
fermenting whiskey mumbles
to no one in particular

she left you

you never saw the love seep
painfully away or even noticed
just how much her spirit died
each time you filled your glass

and as this fiery mistress stole
her top shelf man and left
the emptiness of lonesome nights
you didn't feel her helplessness

she could not compare

did you hear the crash of marriage vows
shattering dreams
the breaking of your children's hearts?

deaf to caring

all alone and pickled in your poison

you just need another drink.
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I can see this face, sandwiched in between the olives, peering out from inside the jar. Great poem.
*s.t.*
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well written
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Excellent...Dshinni
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Thanks all.QY
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NIcely done on not the easiest of subjects - jax