Monday, June 16, 2008


Taking this vacancy, she’s helpless in his wake
Waiting by the coast line, the moon is rising late
She’s holding in her pocket the only thing she knows
She’s falling through his heart again, with only scars to show

Watching the faces of the people wandering down the avenue
Looking for some answers to her questions from the wise few
She’s making her way down this crowded street of crimes
Her troubled past is her only sense of time

Compromising the world for the promise of tomorrow
Saying that somehow it must get better
Unable to wake from his fatal spell
She’s in so deep, whether she’ll make it out is hard to tell

Sleeping through the days for the moments that aren’t bad
Fading in the light. He doesn’t always get mad.
She’s half of everything she thought she could be
She guesses she was never supposed to be all that her mama could see

Blamed and guilt-stricken, she crumbles on the bed
Run over by a railway train, she’s mangled, but not yet dead
A life of beauty forgotten, she’s weaker with every fragile step
Unsure of how she got here, she turns over and takes her last breath

(written 9/07)

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