She inhales the smoke rings like autumn
On the back porch
She has a new obsession (it must be Tuesday…)
Just like the last week never happened
And I know by Saturday
I’ll be bailing her out of that old brick house
And she’ll be scratching and prying
At the windows of the liquor store
I can’t remember what living felt like before…
Before I lived (for her)
I’m picking up the pieces of her broken heart,
Perfectly placing every stitch to make sure she appears whole
(On the outside)
She’s eyeing me from the black velvet sofa.
Running her fingers across the oak floor,
Tracing out her scheme to fame.
She speaks softly
“You’re the only one who’s ever really loved me.”
And I would be lying if I said that I never dreamt of being like her.
I wanted a taste of that pure insanity,
I wanted that mysterious charm that flickered in her eyes,
I wanted her chaos,
Her beauty.
But I’ve never been good at losing control.
And I know its 3am
When I’m prying pills and a bottle of bottom shelf vodka from her fragile hands.
I’m cradled over her on the kitchen floor,
Her ice blue skin under mine.
“You’re the only one who’s ever really loved me.”
In the afternoon light she gracefully hangs
A wilted flower in the corner of another pretentious café.
Bringing a cigarette to her soft pink lips,
Telling me tales of fame, tales of illusion.
How we will one day escape this place,
And we can finally be together.
I should know better by now,
But the lies always sound so enticingly perfect
Coming from those lips.
“You’re the only one who’s ever really loved me.”
2 days later she’s already found herself a new man.
He’s 17 this time. (She’s 26)
But they’re so in love until the sun sets.
Until she’s downed 3 bottles of wine
A couple valium and she’s rambling politics.
At midnight she’s running into traffic,
And I’m talking her down from another suicide rant.
She’s slamming her head against the porcelain bathtub,
A crumbled mess on the floor.
She just can’t handle another day in this place.
“You’re the only one who’s ever really loved me.”
She’s breaking down every word, every image, every ad around her,
Into conspiracy.
But I know by now that after 5am
The music will start and she’ll forget.
And we’ll dance for hours watching silvers shadows,
Just like nothing happened.
And every time I escape her for a moment,
For the chance to find someone who can love me for a change,
She’d pick away at them like the paint on her walls,
Revealing years of tiny colourful flaws.
“You can't leave, you’re the only one who’s ever really loved me.”
And in morning she inhales smoke rings like autumn on the back porch.
She has a new obsession,
It must be Tuesday again.
Just like the last week never happened,
It must be nice to have such a goldfish memory.
“You’re the only one who’s ever really loved me.”
Never remembering that when we first met
She told me that she also loved me.
But I’ll never forget.
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