she collected bottles

old glass vases that threw

distorted shadows on the floor

she had nowempty jugs

that when filled promised nights of glam and gore

bottles filled with sedatives

to chase the contents of the jugs

that'd only brought monsters

and confessions that would not stop spilling forth

she collected bottles for the evening

when the sun is slowly dieing, but

more charming than before

urns of memories and phantoms

everything she possible could store…

she collected bottles

because she held her tongue

and the thoughts that went nowhere

were bottled, stuffed and shun

she collected bottles

and carefully wrapped her life

in the glass containers because

she feared to fight for right

it is safer

it is easier

to let the world pass by

to collect a soul in bottles

than to live

and speak her mind…