September 27, 2008
all alone in the corridor

she walks
she walks
head down eyes on the floor
down on the floor

in barely above a whisper
she talks
she talks
and no one can hear her
no one can hear her

of mysterious things
she thinks
she thinks
of princes and kings
her would-be rescuers

shot after shot
she drinks
she drinks
the bottle’s all she’s got
all she’s got

cell by cell moment by moment
she dies
she dies
slowly every second spent
craving that next drink

every night
she tries
she tries
oh she tries to fight
it to beat it

to beat this addiction
this terrible affliction
to exorcise her demons

she’ll fight and win
she won’t let this do her in
she’ll beat it she will

Three years later

She needed a transplant.
Of her liver.
And she got one,

But then her body
rejected it.
And now she’s gone,


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