slam dancing across the bathroom floor.
eyes bloodshot from the alcohol,
she takes a breath.
she takes a drink.
she falls,
no one catches her,
she falls,
she stands.
and staggers to her room.

home alone and seventeen,
she opens another bottle.
it tastes like hell,
“but it makes the hurt go away”
they don’t know she’s doing this,
they’re gone for the weekend.
they don’t know she’s doing this,
they don’t believe she’s capable.
her eyes brim and she smiles.

tear drops are like rain drops.
and rain drops are soothing.
the tears fall like rain,
but her smile doesn’t come back.
he doesn’t know what she’s doing,
her heart isn’t beating.
he doesn’t know what she’s doing,
he’s drinking too.
(for different reasons)

forget the present and swallow,
the alcohol burns.
one more and she’ll be buzzed.
two more and she’ll be better.
four more and she can’t taste it.
six more…
blackout.
it’s like a movie.

daylight comes and the bright sun has…
dried the tears.
and left the beer.
mom and dad will be home soon.
cover your tracks.
get rid of the bottles,
clean up the beer.
“What happened to me?”
heart break,
she’s porcelain,
heart break,
she’s hurting.

yesterday burned slow.
and now,
she’s got twelve empty beer bottles,
and a headache.

maybe one person slam dances,
are only a fantasy.