Liquid Poison ( shaped poetry )

Each and
every time
you think
you'll find
the answers
at the bottom
of your bottle
which you drown
yourself deep within.
How much more liquid
will you consume before
starting to look elsewhere?
Litre after litre you swallow
the alcohol which is poisoning
your already drowning lungs.
Each time that cold bottle tip
touches your craving lips, the
glass cuts deeper into the bond
we once had until it drives us so
far apart, that we can no longer see
each other between the distance. The
metal cap has put its lid on top of
my emotions because I can't bear to
watch you destroy your body whilst
standing by doing nothing about it.
You refuse to listen and don't accept
help for the problem you deny you
have. But there will come a point
where you'll hit rock bottom and
your organs will already be too
damaged to be saved.