She has a daily routine,

At the end of the day

A little past seven,

Before she goes home,

She walks to the corner

To the nearest liquor store.

She picks up a cheap bottle of wine

And a bottle of Bacardi.

She heads home to her apartment

Where she'll sit on the couch,

Think deeply about her day,

Converse with the demons in her head,

And remember old ghosts.

She pours herself a few drinks

So that her mind may be at ease,

She drinks to forget.

By morning light

She wakes up with an empty bottle in hand.

It's a brand new day,

Yet she remembers everything she tried so hard to forget the night before.

The alcohol provides temporary relief

From the memories.

But hey, she'll take what she can get.