Two in the afternoon
And she’s drunk already
Over emotional and irrational
Irritating the way people always are
When you’re the sober one
Tugging at my shirt sleeve
And my heart strings
Those big sad eyes
She spills her guts
And her emotions
Over white porcelain
Every morning
Every night
Lost at sea
Swimming for the shore
She says: I’m trying to cope
She says: This is self-help
But all I see is drowning.
emily slaney 