Saturday, October 4, 2014

whatever she was has left some time ago

way past her prime,
still doin' that bar scene

she's got a cub at home
as she prowls for new lion to tame,
distract that messed up brain,
don't let it think about that last one
who chased ya out of the den

he was a bastard anyway, right?

ignore what happened and
keep sportin' out-of-whack theories
about who was right

I'm sure it was most definitely
you

head to that dive,
that ol' stomping ground
for the sad and lonely
where all husks of what
was once man gather

past her prime
she's still got the [charm],
whatever it is to make these
sad fucks actually listen to her
goin' on 'bout this-n-that
nonsense talk flying in one
ear out the other hoping
for that slim chance to
get into her pants,
a brief sensation
of feeling alive

it's shallow,
it's nothing,
she has become
nothing and shallow,
anything that was once her
had long since passed,
she is fractured,
the soul had seeped
through the cracks
to escape her reality,
left now only a shell,
she stares at the mirror
admiring her looks,
no reflection is cast

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