What She Hides in the Moonlight

She slept with her makeup on,

With the smell of alcohol and cigarettes clinging to her,

She was back at home alone 

With all the visions that seemed so blur 

She laid her fragile body 

She wanted someone but needed nobody

Inhale, exhale!

She was feeling sick, pale 

Her soul wandering through the past, through the present 

She was there, but never present 

Heart beats going faster

She wrote a page, but never a chapter 

Another hour, another pain 

She had nothing to lose, yet nothing to gain 

She opened her eyes, the sun coming through the window pane

She can feel it's warmth dancing with the rain

Washing her sin, burning her skin 

She wake, she pray the Lord her soul to take 

Another morning, another ache 

Another smile she had had to fake

Author's Note

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Reviews

[John Stussy]

I've been stewing over this poem. I really like it, for several reasons, but I wanted to have all my thoughts in order before I commented upon it. The one and only flaw I saw in it was: With all the visions that seemed [to] blur.

The sublime sensation of an insatiable want with an utter absence of need, that vertigo sensation of striving and sweating to look back to see nothing, the throbbing-brain quality of a hangover-in-the-making, and a sense of, well, emptiness, make this piece resonate strongly with me. That couplet you finish with makes for an outstanding ending that perfectly fits all of the other sensations into that regretful, today-is-going-to-absolutely-suck post-drinking morning stretch. I thoroughly enjoyed this piece of writing.