Broken Bottle Highway (Braeden’s Writing Challenge #2)

Chasing a high-pitch shout

down an empty bottle

Retracing every convoluted

and mindless discussion

that was conjured up

Deciding not to dwell or

wallow in your demise

doesn’t change that I

can feel every chard of glass

down Broken Bottle Highway

You call yourself a lost soul

but parts of you just vanish

You claim to seek the answers

to the questions you already know

Along the path of stubbornness

Broken Bottle Highway

runs parallel to your demons

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