Sunday, March 2, 2014

The Story

I crave the numbness of the 9-5
heroin tracks of emotion are left on ring fingers
with nothing left but a gun.

I walk into magazine add but less gloss and more spread
changing the way I read and leaving photograph's instead.

Never got me far I say.

Tell me sir,

If I was beautiful why don't they stay?

I change the station
music plays

I am reminded of your bourbon smile- perfect face
I sob silently

I belong no- where
nothing tames me

yet nothing calls my name -

Alice I say.

Holding picture frame.


You will never know the secret

I will never tell

Unless you find her.

But no one has, have they.

Buried under time,
in the 9-5.

searching for something more.
looking for the No.