Plastered, Disastered

Plastered, disastered, tied up in a Gordian knot
Each time she pulls the strings, the tighter they get
Struck with lucidity, for a moment at least
Insanity momentarily locked in the bottle under her arm

Opening the lid will allow Pandora’s turmoil to escape
Taking her to places she never intends to visit
Into her world of darkness she is falling, lost again
Subjected to mental anguish, emotional rape

Fear her companion, stress her lover, denial her friend
Leading her down the path, hoping to find what she has misplaced
That feeling of ease and comfort once so warm and embracing
Unleashes the maelstrom of hell’s fury, wrath and vengeance

Insidiously quiet, baffling, patient, cunning and sly
Lying in wait, sounding as a siren calling her to disaster
Always appealing, its lies perfectly sweet and promising
A song of love, relief, fulfillment and joy, a song of deceit

That first taste is bitter, hard flavored by a bit of remorse
The second not much better, tartly flavored with guilt
The third flavored with warm memories of past days
As night continues the path is cleared, the course set

The awareness of futility sighs, it slowly moves on
Calm and quietness settle in for their short stay
She has found the magical balancing place momentarily
Unaware its fulcrum is soft and crumbling under her weight

Disaster awaits her again another drink or two or three away
Insane thoughts of a distorted past spur her onward
Looking for just the right place that eludes all who suffer
It exists no more, perhaps it never did, perhaps an illusion