Fluorescent
Every little thing makes
you laugh,
And the smile on your face
is permanently etched.
Every color on the wall is
fluorescent,
Like a nightclub in the
city, where chameleons live.
She forgets about the past,
As euphoria chokes her
veins,
And everything feels like a
dream,
And she remembers them all
with disdain.
There’s a lot of stumbling,
And her feet are going
everywhere,
Like an erratic car with no
destination.
Sister’s a girl with a
glowing disposition.
Take another hit,
Really let it filter
through your blood,
And let your mind go to the
worst place,
But it feels like the
godforsaken best.
She feels kind of dizzy,
Like the whirl of the
ceiling fan in her brother’s room.
She used to stare at it like it was a holy text,
For it entranced her like
the chuckling moon.
Hey, girlie, want another
hit?
She can’t say no, because
the word itself has left her thoughts.
Every little sensation is a
wildfire, and every little motion is unstable.
She feels she is a burning effigy, of all the hate in the world.
There’s got to be some
water around here.
She tries to remember her
mother’s free flowing dress.
Is it supposed to all be so
vivid?
Is she supposed to feel
like the world’s animated?
She’s clutching at the
walls,
But no one at this party
cares.
They all own houses with
eyes shut,
And they all are big shots,
who have sniped the moon and shot the stars.
She needs some air,
But the door’s too far
away,
And she needs to leave,
But her heels are
caterwauling and the sound kills her.
She wants her mother,
But her mother’s gone and
died,
And the poor little girl in
the city of angels
Has succumbed to an overwhelming
night.
They find her, pipe in
hand, lying in the bathroom.
She’s poignantly beautiful and seventeen.
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