Blonde hair tumbling
pushed back with a restless hand
the chin that was so high
is wilting
Her insides are shining through
She can’t prevent them tumbling out
the things she’d normally lock away
are lost now in the shout of
“I’ll get the next round”
And I can’t help but think
happy people drink
in an altogether different way
to how sad people do
to how empty people do
to how stressed people
do
I could go over and offer a shoulder
I’ve been where she is and would
but it won’t do any good
in this mood she is embolden
to say more than she should
and none of it will make any sense
She is bent
and staggers slightly
on the next round
perhaps it is the height of her shoes
She laughs and blames the carpet
but the laughter is hollow, overly loud
and the face in the mirror
all slashing lipstick and thick mascara
cannot mask how her
eyes are crumbling
If you are tired of the drinking cycle and want to give it up completely or just a break (it’s dry July!) then a couple of good books and blogs are below. I’m sorry I don’t have links to Amazon but a few clicks should get you whatever you need.
Holly Whittaker and her amazing blog:
And these books are a great place to start π
That was a really beautiful and sad poem. Loved it. π
Thanks π I found her a little sad to watch in action but everyone is on their own journey so best we can do is live and let live and be kind I guess ππ