Her vices has a vice-script hold on her drunken soul. She loved lowering her inhibitions so when she was high enough, she could wave as they fly over her head. Thinking of lies yet to be told she kissed her, him, she and her again.
Always fun to herself...but not so much to others. Especially when runing low on rum and coke. Never a quiter just more resigned. She is her mothers cookie cutter daughter. A budding grape compared to fine wine.
Taking all her follies to bed with her and making sweet lust in a wakeful dream. All temperance getting lost in between clean sheets. Pretending to be the fool can only last for so long before guilt gets thrown up. Prayers to the lush Gods in sexy moans, painful screams and torn hurls.
Deep in her toxic vacation from the sober real world. Slipping slowly and diving further into the Brandy. Quickly finding the familiar fading pain. And spending the night on isolation's lonely shores.
Forgive me?
She asks yet again.
As unconsciousness floats her out to sea.