She says she needs more alcohol
The world is not spinning.
Only a fire in her belly.
Battery acid in her veins

There is more than what’s on the surface,
That’s just scratching.
Because she needs her alcohol,

It makes her feel good,
Energized,
Better,
Happier
Makes her forget the world’s trouble.

But the tap is running low,
And she is alone.
Taking another stolen sip, she smiles to herself.
Feeling malicious and well.

How long will this go on, until someone notices?
Fixes her?
Comes to her rescue?