My Very Own Nevada

I was twenty-seven years’ old

my spark gone

lost all hope in love

was drowning

in my very own

sin city

I remember

the day

and hour

my alarm clock

died willingly

I felt nothing

I didn't even notice

every hour was the same

Dark

Cold

Empty

Lonely

I pinned myself

to a bill board

on Fremont Street once

but nobody saw me

a million tiny lights

and I still didn't shine

someone once told me

if I wanted to touch the sun

first

I’d have to climb out

of these fires of hell

and, I finally did it…

with naked feet.