empty beer bottles

Empty beer bottles line the windowsill,
collecting dust down through their necks
to mix in with the last few drops of alcohol
not consumed,
nor rinsed out and down the sink.

Lined up in a row
they tell a story of the evenings past
filling our stomachs with barley and malt
until they reached our minds
and made us feel better.

Some are yours, some are mine,
but we drank them together
talking, smiling and laughing,
liking each other.
For me, at least.

How many beers will it take
for us to tell each other
how we really feel?

Pull me back

Pull me back from the routine of hustle,
racing against time to optimize productivity,
working fast and diligent
because I am the only one.

Pull me back from the hustle,
make me slow down enough
to have a conversation of leisure
with you.
Remind me of other worthy goals
besides the numbers and dates.

Pull me back to myself
like only you can.