slow roast

a mind is a treacherous thing to baste
but shes havin too much fun
runnin and gunning in the wild west of city streets
shes the star of her own reality show
but its never so real
she would have to think about consequence
never so real she would have to look you in the eye

she was a delicate beauty
now grown thin
stretched too far on the hard line
in the company of cold faces with dollar sings for eyes
she was a warm hand holding mine
when i needed it
never got a chance to return the favor
fore the streets swallowed her whole
a mind is a treacherous thing to baste
and she has slow roasted hers

(for serenity)