An empty glass

An empty glass on a counter

Being bored into by the dead eyes of a night shift employee

An empty glass tip jar on the counter, not a single penny.

An empty glass heart and an empty glass brain

In a person that was promised a world they couldn’t afford.

An empty glass

An empty glass on a counter 

Being bored into by the dead eyes of a divorcee

An empty glass bottle by his side

And a full one, full of poison and promises of escape

But soon will be another empty glass bottle

Next to a man with empty glass smiles and empty glass trust.

An empty glass

An empty glass on a counter

Being bored into by the dead eyes of a writer

Desperately gazing at the bottom of an empty glass mug 

For inspiration to smooth her empty glass soul

And fill her empty glass days with colors and infinite skylines

And things that make her empty glass life worth living

Yet, they are only empty fantasies crafted from the finest fake crystal.

An empty glass.

On a counter.

A vacancy that desperately needs to be filled

Syrupy, sugary beverages detested by the night shift employee

Harsh, burning poison entailed by the divorcee

And bitter, caffeinated inspiration devoured by the writer

Choose your poison

And fill that empty glass once again.