Eyes half closed, thoughts are floating.
Feeling dizzy from the weight of the world.
Trying to remember things I knew.
Wishing what I know now, I could redo.
Real talk, real sadness, reality.
As the reel spins the ribbon through.
Thought I heard my aunt laughing
somewhere in a distant place.
She’s so high above me though,
I’ll never be able to hold her hand.
Never posses all her charm and grace.
Flames from a lighter, Marlboro reds,
smoke rings circling all the things unsaid.
He looks sexy drinking Jim Beam and water.
Often wonder if I’m in hell, think to myself,
“It’s just as well.” and the room is hotter.
Dangling bulb on a chain just went dim.
Wake up sweating from memories of him.
Pour one more shot of Patron, hour left
to put my game face on, open the shades.
We could be happy but it’s easier mad.
Don’t need to recall the love we had.
That type of thinking makes me weaker.
Wipe the nightmares from my mind.
Song stuck in my head on constant rewind.
Hendrix is moaning and I hear him ask,
“Are you experienced?”
Not necessarily stoned, but I feel beautiful.
donetta sifford 6–2013
Written for Magpie Tales – Mag 223