The Theology of an Empty Glass

About this story

The poem follows a man who measures his existence in sips, believing at first that memory is durable and identity stable. With each drink, he tries to erase pain, but instead discovers that forgetting is not an escape it is a slow dismantling. What begins as distraction turns into philosophy; what begins as habit turns into ritual. Faces fade, words hollow out, love becomes superstition, and God slowly recedes into silence. As the sips continue, the man does not rebel against God so much as he stops negotiating with Him. Forgiveness feels transactional, belief feels unnecessary, and despair becomes oddly lucid. By the end, nothing dramatic happens no collapse, no revelation. Only the quiet realization that what he has been drinking all along is not alcohol, but memory itself. The glass remains full because forgetting, once started, has no natural end.