Bottles

To me, nights were never older
And like the deep blue sea, it’s colder.
I’ve been watching her since forever,
Making wine bottle as my brother.

I cannot hate myself for losing her
When I can see her in the arms of another.
I was numb back then and after.
But I’m not sorry for myself either.

Yet, I’m acquainted with some beer
And it’s bottles that happily shatter.
I cry for help. And I cry for her.
But she’s gone and can hear, never.

I blame myself, no. Not ever.
But, oh! I am such a bummer.
I wish my heart to become lighter.
It’s all mine that we’re not together.