The City sings her lullabies

She chose to be alone tonight
left you at the bar
to watch the glow of
the city, afar.

Flick, flick, flick,
the City sings her lullabies,
and crackles.

Earlier, she asked,
if her good friends
Hedonism and Debauchery,
could take her for a ride,
in their chemo limo.

But seems her cup runneth
empty, there’s a new hole,
so on this balmish
evening, she will
bear it witness,
clear minded.

In lieu of swimming
in amnesia’s arms,
she cleans up
the morning’s mess,
hoping it will somehow,
make a mist in her mind.

For she has a story,
turning her inside out,
really is best she stayed indoors
it’s a little unsightly,
all this meaty, rawness
on your speckled floor.

It’s a story that has
found a somber end
and as she wipes away
the remnants of
vodka and ash,
she’s unsure if
she should
swallow the story whole,
and forget, forget
it all
or open her mouth
and let it spill
afraid, afraid,
her brain,
may choose
to cut loose
with it.

For now,
she takes
her cold tea,
her unwavering head,
her spilling insides,
and watches
the heady night’s glow
and waits patiently
for sleep’s absolution.

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