Closing eyes to stare at her insides. Searching for the happiness life decides not to bring. Too sober to look in the mirror and see herself as pretty. Definitely not drunk enough to believe that lie. Not yet at least.
3 bottles later.
She wrote sins all across her face until it was unrecognizable. Easier to disguise gazes of pity for envy. Such a fucking mess. And yet so very beautiful.
Blackness crowds around the edges of her sight and she is anxious by the display. A few more sips and slurs and staying conscience getting harder to fight.
Maybe tomorrow will be different than today....
Always were her last thoughts before she passed out into the night.