30 Years to Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

“30 Years-to-Life”
Sipping this morning’s highball; I see a bullet in my drink
No use barking at the bartender; since I’m the one who loaded it
Pressed the nozzle against my lips

I fold down against the marble; my face thanks the cold respite
But this floor is not one I’ve been on
Before I pulled this last night’s trigger

I breathe in to cry for mercy; for someone to send me help
But strange marble is not so new to me… or anyone else
So I lie there for quite a minute; but I lie everywhere it seems

I didn’t think they even saw me; my grit and grind beyond each midnight
But they heard my every moment
My sweat dancing on their floors

Where is all my glitter? And lipstick stains that aren’t my own?
Where’s the dance floor that leads to bedrooms?
The pretending we’re not all whores?

The mirror tells me truthfully; it’s time for you to go
But I can’t find a place who will have me
While the gun’s still in my hand

So another sunrise without that mercy
No wallet
No pretty face

On the sidewalk I hope they’ll find me; a highball on the rocks
But if I scream they’ll never hear me
Because there’s me without my mouth.

Submitted: October 22, 2020

© Copyright 2020 RileyJanes. All rights reserved.

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Unrefined ore. Pure grit. Good work, here.

Thu, October 22nd, 2020 11:05pm

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Poem / Poetry