Neon Soulmate

Gypsy, crown the girl

who runs

so fast

she's already passed you by.

Crown her

queen

of heartache;

our lady of god

and sorrow

(how she loved him so)

crown her in the name of lies everywhere

give her a thrown

amongst the stars

and patrol her;

parole her, and

unroll her

so you can step just right

all over her.

She's the queen

of you

when you groan,

like the phone

that doesn't ring.

She's the reason why you sing

at night,

so light

are you

against her-

her, the queen of brightness

contriteness,

she's a righteous bitch

(or just a bitch

that you can't stop

the itch for,

the twitch for,

the pitch for.ward,

she's never been the right word to describe you.)

She's the wrong melody;

she's a poison

when you spent good money on a remedy.