sylvia had big pill problems. sometimes she’d swallow nine at a time. sometimes she’d hold 12 under her tongue so the vein would take it faster. some women, strength in their thighs, claimed cheesecake better than sex. not sylvia.

sylvia had big drink problems. whiskey sneaks up on you that ghost tried a wind against her back.

sylvia had tv problems in the sick of spilled maker’s mark and gas stink under the blankets. cable cut out the offensive but it didn’t do that for sylvia. her pills made her hungry. there were chocolate, spaghetti sauce stains. who gives a shit you’re an artist nobody cared for you. and her thoughts whirr a mile a minute it’s a cliche but needed to be used:

.i’m in the back of your mind amid your vices huddle cringe wait for the blow. you need to cut out the drinking. you’ve been drinking heavily for your little frame. and the benzos?
.i’m waiting for ambien or lunesta and then i’ll stop taking.

cue smirk. maybe she’d die, hollywood’s finest. beauty and sleep in one.