Whiskey love

He could only reach there when he had a bottle

it was the way it scraped back the sediment

the dirty layers 

stamped solid by

a past he'd rather forget.

He filled another glass

journeying to an altered state

one softer

a place that could be called home

as long as he swallowed hard.

All fractured sides joined there

held hands, forgave each other

and a log fire thawed his heart

until he cried

into the arms of himself.

No one gave him a chance

had written his obituary

flowers had been sent

and it was here now

that a lonely man found his god.

Lucky to get this far

given his beginnings

whiskey love for dinner

the very least he deserved

from a life less ordinary.