The Breaking (Stu Hatton)

the shatter & melt:
glass filled with ice
slipped from my hand.
i mean, i was
just flaking in a booth, dimlit bar,
3 friends,
drugs between us making mistakes
didn’t want to know
your whereabouts
how you were captured
what painkillers stomached
what beds caught you
when you fell.
i fell till 10am,
blurred in cabs, throwing money;
crashed some dirty-hive recovery
glued to girl,
dosed up & vodkas,
flapping mothlike at the lights,
dumb, played
& in her eyes,
death that pretty young thing,
saw a way in.