She stares at me with empty eyes,
tilts the bottle back,
and swallows her pride.
She forces a smile.
She's so good at telling lies,
one after another,
building a wall.
She needs something to hide behind.
One more day just passes by.
One more reason to deny.
One more chance to face
the demons she's been running from.
One more promise that she'll make.
One more promise that she'll break.
One more lie she'll tell
to make up for what she'll never be.
She can't remember yesterday,
tilts the bottle back
as soon as she wakes,
something to stop the shakes.
Wish there was something i could say,
but she learned it all
from my own mistakes,
because I did the same thing every day.
She says she dont know how to change.
And then I'm filled with so much shame
when she reminds me
everyday that I'm the one to blame.
So I watch her as she drinks,
and I dont know what to think,
because I see myself
with every goddamned drink that she takes.
She's not trying to recover.
What's the point in facing the pain
when its easier running away.
She dont need another lover.
Alcohol gives her everything
till theres nothing left for me to offer.
She's not trying to recover.
What's the point in loving herself
when she's somebody else
every day
Maybe someday she'll discover
how everything is perfect and new
when she finally see's through
sober eyes