Drinking to Forget the Dumb Shit I've Done While Drinking

Alone, I slur serenades, irony-poisoned mirth that only your ghost could love, and I could only love your ghost, beautiful as you but complaisant in my self-ruin. I'm a once-emerald landscape now buried in drifts of empty bottles, a shattered-glass reflection of someone I can't remember but you assure me did exist