BLONDE

S E I G F R I E D

It's the next morning , I woke up and played my keyboard.

Living in an idea of another man's mind.
I'm not brave.

This feels ironic.

My keyboard is the only thing besides my family that can keep me happy. I don't know what it is but I'm missing Mary Jane. I usually think about her occasionally. I always gave Mary a chance, too many chances. I wish I could tell her how I feel but I'm not brave.

Mary's crack addiction kept me away far from her. So far, we drifted into the oceans and 12 lakes. So far, she's beneath me. She was only 16, where did she get the money from? Who was she buying it from? How did she find it? How did she find out about it?
Every time I would question her she would  get so suspicious.

"Mary, why is there mashed potatoes in the floor?" I asked her puzzled.
"I waisted them In the floor" she ran to the mashed potatoes in the floor.
I grabbed the broom to sweep them up.
"Please don't get rid of that! He'll kill me....Oops I meant I'll get that." She slightly smiled.
"Who will kill you?" By this time I was questioning why she had been out for so long.
"Nobody Frankie just go to bed." She demanded.
I watched her stuff all the mashed potatoes in a plastic zip lock bag and but before she had sniffed some of it up.

I snapped out of memories and started playing 'Swim Good', one of my favorite songs I ever wrote. I wish I could tell her how I feel but I'm not brave.