She stared blankly into the liquor that cascaded into the glass flute. The spinning in her head throbbed and the pain started vibrating within her thoughts. The minuscule amount of booze increasingly became drowning confusion. The state of disorientation consumed her consciousness as she repeatedly refilled the glass. Myriads of hallucination administrated her sanity, leaving her in bouts of sobs and eccentric yarps of uncertain joy. Alcohol, her only company.

A heart she gave to several cherished ones, a love commited into perception; to belong to suburbs of humanity. A hand she took, the fingers she slipped past, the clench that freely loosened.

Another lonely Sunday this is.