Crushed, crumpled cans of crimson, silver and white
are the only bright colors in her grey world.
Bubbles frothing, scathing on her tongue and heart.
One more can of this liquid, she begs once more.
She craves the sweet and sour Coca Cola daily.
She used to hate it but they don't remind her
of someone and his daily abuse, of him.
The red, silver, white cans he'd hated, she loves now.
~
