She’s chasing her demons with whiskey,
That’s all the spirit she needs.
She loves them till the glass turns misty,
Then she opens up and bleeds.
Don’t turn away, she just cannot help it.
Baby, when it rains, it pours.
Her eyes turn from wells to empty buckets,
And the walls turn into doors.
But don’t you mind it, she’s almost done.
Watch as the new sun rises.
The face of the day kills all her fun,
It buries her in demises.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 