lily

I was one of those girls, in the back of the newspapers. Wed show up at your door for 60 bucks and then come inside for more. Your smile was infectious and beautiful. You held onto my hand and didnt let go. Like an infant afraid to leave its mothers arms. I had these intense maternal feelings for you while you sank on the cold tiles of your bathroom floor, Vodka in hand, Your favorite form of poison. The sound of plastic girls getting fucked hard in the background of our daydream. The television screamed with fake orgasmic love and girls deep throating their daddies. A visual to make anyone cough or smile. I dont want to fuck you. You said. Just hold my hand
And I did. I smoked all your newports and you made my skin sweat. I showed up at your door again and again. Sometimes wed wander down the street to the bar that you frequented where everyone knew your name but not your heart. On dark nights Id drift off to sleep next to you and Id dream of your liver bleeding. We joked about how we resembled the characters in Leaving Las Vegas. That was my nickname for you, MikeLeavingLasVegas. When I left you to die and self destruct alone, It wasnt hate baby, It was all love, I knew you so well, You were in my brain and my veins and my soul. Its just that you didnt know me. I was just whoever you wanted me to be.


and what you never knew
can never get to you
so fake it
i'll be your stumbleine
i'll be your super queen
and make you
jukebox fuckup hanging round the drugstore
no matter what you say he'll be back for more"