cut away
soon. the aftermath
cuts away like the broken
smile of the warped
woman who killed her
baby
i have no reason to
dream. they'll steal it
anyway. the crowd
sucks their breath and
tears through with the
initiation of small words
pouring with disbelief.
why would you not
dream of flat screen tvs
and sport-cars zooming
through highways at 2am,
silly girl. the intoxiation of
a million dollars never enough?
well, they say they have never
seen a screw-up who never
wanted to be rich.
i'm sorry, does me being
me
make you uncomfortable?
so why don't fuck off
before
i make this worse for
you until the point you
can hardly curl those
red lips of yours into
another fake
smile.