November 2, 2011
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I am sparkling, spinning as I stare into
A dirty, disco dust and dirt covered mirror
At a busy bar downtown,
Where nobody knows my name.
Wherever you may be,
Smoking stale cigarettes and running your fingers through your
Hair, I imagine you are thinking of me.
You always are. And I am spinning, spinning
Back towards the table,
At full force, to the glittering glasses full of magic;
Like drinking rust and choking on napkins,
And I wish you were here to comfort me,
Stroke my back as I fought the feeling I had to
Sleep, or get sick.
There is no comfort in the glittering glasses full of black magic.
No promise in this bar.
And I lost you. I had to, hadn’t I?
You made me chose. You cannot make me feel invincible; numb.
There is no feeling like unfeeling and you never understood.
This lonely, desolate wasteland full of stumbling magicians and,
Loud mouthed girls spilling out of their sequined tops.
If I could chose again, would my answer have changed?
You told me to pick- black magic or you.
You expected this.
You were so used to it.
Boys and their black magic; evil tricks.
We never picked you.

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