She said good morning
They call me
Dead Sara
She said we all need a friend
Sometimes
Her eyes were sore
sheets worn
Around her shoulders
Her breast bone cracked
As she stretched off
The night
Her arms were scratched
Nails worn
And black As leather
A cigarette hung
From her lips
Struggling to light
I said sure
I can stay
For a little while
And gave her a flame
As she looked into my eyes
She said Who you see
It Isn't really me
The whiskey neat
Self ripped jeans
Led Zeppelin Tee's
Eye shadow smudged
Hair unclean
The indie dream
Doesn't mean a thing anymore
I use to sing with meaning
Not a means to an end
I swapped the needle on my turn table
For a needle that pierced my skin
She said What's your name?
I can't even remember
I said names don't really mean a thing
The busker outside
The window
Began to play Proud Mary
Big wheels keep on turning
We did scream
She said you're kinda cool but you look so innocent
I'll probably poison
your soul
If you hang around to long
I said Dead Sara
Don't you ever turn your mind off
Dead Sara don't you ever just enjoy the song?
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Author:
Edthepoet (
Offline) - Published: July 4th, 2017 09:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 63
- Users favorite of this poem: burning-embers
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Comments3
What an incredible description and an even more incredible name. And the last two lines really got to me.
Great writing Ed!
This actually made me feel old because it brought back so clearly people i would meet when i was a younger thing, places and peole so far removed from what i am now. Thank you. This really awakened long undisturbed memories.
Really fantastic writing. I like to read you. One reason why I searched for s site like this was really to read what the actual poets were writing. Poets like you, fresh from the oven. I'm thrilled to read from people of all ages here. The old, the young, the good, the bad. Such a fantastic diversity. Thank you all.
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