Good morning, Anna.

She wakes to another morning
Bloodshot eyes, cigarette burns
She shakes like a breaking twig
Caught inside, the room turns.

Reaches up into her velvet purse
Grabs a broken mirror to fix her face
Her head's tangled, lips bleed red
It starts and end in the same place.

Once she used to be beautiful
Now she gets pity for her smiles
The bed was once lined with lovers
Now not a lover for miles.

She's running late again for work
Sunshine's gone, sky's darkened
There is just no time left today
Suicide, maybe later this weekend.