Lucy,
Stop this senseless spinning,
We can't see you,
You're mixing in with blurry lights.

"Why don't the tummy good?
My tummy isn't good.
HEY LOOK!
I'm flying!"

We were standing on our apartment building
She thought she was soaring through those clouds
They were just holding her down.
"Higher.
Higher.
I'm flyin..."
THUMP

Poor little Lucy,
Couldn't handle her alcohol.
Maybe she was too young,
Maybe she wasn't ready.
But,
She wanted to get drunk.

She always dreamt of flying.

Nobody knows why.