Translucent behavior
Of a disruptive neighbor.
One day as she sits,
Smoking a pack of cigarettes
She sees the girl she could have been
Walking down the street.
She doesn't wave,
She just continues puffing, forever the nicotine's slave.
Sleeping in an empty house,
A vacant home.
Memories of life before the house she now called her own.
There's no one left to call on the phone.
So she sits, forever alone.
An imprisonment quite unlike anything else,
Created through her own doing.
Inspired by loss, captivated by death,
And stricken with sobriety, who is she fooling?
What was any of this for?
She could not remember.
Why did I bother to live here?
She begins to fill an empty memoir.
There's not much to say,
Other than she wishes to never see another day.
And what could you possibly say,
That could even for a moment take away
The pains
Of remains of her days...
And now under the cold, dark earth she lays
 Alucarda Incarnate · Tue Mar 03, 2009 @ 05:07am · 0 Comments |
