empty bottle resembles empty heart

   and empty head,

   and empty bed

--


every song is a punch to the gut
   reminding her that she must
  
   she must

   be better, be stronger, be confident

and yet relapse is on the road
   to the imaginary land of recovery

--


she develops an intense relationship
   with her lonesome bed

blanets reach out to keep her pinned
   -to pillows
   -in sleep
   -with tear-stained cheeks, chewed up nails,
    swollen shoulder blades

her mattress is desperate for the kisses and sighs
   she gives it night after night