The 5th was gone and the last shot floated in the distance. She stumbled to it. Her feet didn't lead her. Nor did her mind. It was her need. Not to live, not to fight, but to stop the shaking and the pain. The pain that now echoed through her mind along with her heart beat. She downs the taquilla and holds back her tears. It wraps her veins like a blanket, suffacating their existence. She stumbles back in comfort of forgetting the clock that ticks. The seconds take to long as the knief cuts to deep. Red tears travel her skin showing that although broken, her heart does still beat. This is the only way her soul can escape. The only way to look to a better ending. Or is it better? She slips into her darkened light dreaming of past lives,and is whold again upon awakedning. It's not me... it can't be. That's why I talk always of her and she. The drink takes me from... me. And I'm someone else. I takes me to where I can only talk from afar and watch in silence of a sin I can so clearly see.