My Wine

I like to sit in silence and watch my dark memories jump around in my head, like playing the piano, but this pianos dead, like me, its notes are out of place, disappearing without a trace, for I'm the piano that was smashed with a rock, for I'm the man that wants my heart to stop, for I'm nothing like the rich ones on top, that sip there flood in a shiny glass cup, for my cup is empty, nothing in it but my own skin and teeth, for I am thirsty and beaten beneath, beneath the smiles beneath the jokes so now I will just sip my blood until I choke