The cup,
plastic and
child sized, was
utilized,
shielding the horrendous,
tormenting,
destructive monster,
that dwelled inside it.
But she was blind
to the beast
that withered
her liver away.
She submitted
to the brilliance
of the appeasing,
colorful cup
she drank from.

It was discerning
how clever this
puny, inanimate object
was in serving as a camouflage
to a person’s fault. It used her,
took advantage of her
weakness,
convincing everyone,
all witnesses,
not to worry.

It protected her
from her mistakes,
showing no trace
of a problem,
of ill health,
of death.

The cup, it
deceived her.
Had it
obtained some quality
of translucence
she would have perhaps believed
that this cup
imitated innocence
while she plunged herself
into a putrid bog
of alcoholism and
death.