2 AM's pale light bled like a beacon in the small town streets.
she hopped on the bus, windows down and head up
bile on the back of her tongue but nighttime in her nose
the walls looked different dipped in moonlight
dreams of a big blue breeze crept up her throat and
fell back into her stomach because nobody wanted to hear them
everything seemed to be eaten up by the blackness
eyes once luminous and shadows of hands held fast
simply dissipated in the dark
I don't think anybody knew who she was.
I don't think anybody cared.
her hair was long and brown and boring and
their gaze seemed to slip to her feet
talent on the tip of her tongue just wasn't enough
cold toes and trepid steps made sure
nobody went out of their way
batting those neon eyelashes and signs of sadness
placed her heart, slightly cracked, in the street
she was hoping somebody'd pick it up
looking out the window at those fields that just seemed to go on and on and on and on
purple flowers soft on the skin and a bitter taste of change
cool rain washing away the pain and
love and
drawings on the side walk
the walls were made of ash and sand and Monday's lovers
the roads were made of bone, and homes
were painted in tired ghosts and high school sweethearts
graffiti on the walls of the 7-11
nobody remembered a time when it wasn't there
broke down cars and empty houses
free fall so slow they thought they had a rope
the diluted American Dream
would anyone even notice if she left?
stomachaches and
headaches and
heartache went by undetected
so she started skipping breakfast
thinner face, hollow eyes
went by like a breeze blowing through down town
on friday night, new red lipstick fell to the floor
and saturday's songs were unheard of
so she disappeared like the background radio
nobody noticed she had gone
