Little Lost Girl
Her eyes barely slits
Cigarette smoke burning them profusely
She sits at the computer
And stares at the empty screen
She stumbles through the alphabet
Looking for the words that will
Bring him back to her….
Make him say SOMETHING to her
But aside from every other reason he has
To ignore her, to shun her, to feel shamed by her –
Even maybe anger toward her? —
She cannot find the right words
And the pain in her chest never abandons her
(At least she can always count on that, eh?)
Once she had felt so confident:
If only she could talk to him
It would make a difference.
Maybe that was true once,
But no longer.
So instead she will lose herself
In pills and alcohol tonight
Anything to blur the memories of what was
And the horror of what is
She almost hopes she never wakes up.
It’s never too late –
Until we are dead.
So ,maybe there a few minutes left after all….
I sure the fuck don’t.