Why did she have to mend herself,
And pretend like everything was fine.
When no day passed without a sob,
As she lay drunk with wine.

She held the bottle to her lips,
And with every single sip,
It was as if she drowned again,
It was as if she waned away.

The memories blurred as the days passed on ,
As she looked for something to hold on.
But honey, you see, the days are gone,
When you could expect a shoulder to cry on.