The Empty Glass

A poem about the lies we tell ourselves.

The Empty Glass





There’s lipstick on the glass.

Might be mine.

Sad I have to guess

in my own home.



I pick up the glass.

I wish I could say it was half full

Even half empty

But there’s nothing in it anymore.



I close my eyes.



I will pretend until it kills me.

It’s not odd

that I should drink

an empty glass

and taste someone else’s

lipstick on my tongue.



If I close my eyes



I can taste red wine.

And if I truly wish it,

I only taste

my own lies.