Scabbing tattoo gypsy heart;
Red around the edges-
Raw and aching to be scratched.
Try a little tenderness.
Don't baby it too much.
Stay and go and come away again soon, with me.
Down these halls
Painted over words we let slip
Then slide...
You just go for the ride and I stand behind you
watching you walk away.
It's the smell of piss and shit and blood on a Saturday morning after;
Someone stole your shower head and it's too cold to do laundry.
It's "Thank God the bar's across the street" and "Are you gonna eat those fries?".
It's a heavy bass line that makes you wanna take your clothes off and dance and it's too cold to sleep alone.
52 card pick up under the back stairwell.
Inky finger print bruises on my hips.
Angry ruby wound;
tight around my wrist like twist ties
and the ties that bind, and the rope we wind up with
like a noose turned neck tie.
We run. We hide. And seek.
We find. And blind eye turn on each other.
While we huddle together against the
concrete chill of warehouse heater blues
hit the snooze button one more time
Before out the door we stumble.
Mumble into our scarves and the scars
we carved into our arms.
Dollar coins and subway rides to work to work to work
We pray this will all just work.
And I'm done with I love you's from far away lips
On this unwashed Monday, but at least my clothes are clean
even if my mouth is dirty, and my mind is dirty and
my fingernails are covered in war paint and I'm down in this trench of a gutter
with just a hot plate and some styrofoam cups to raise up
and rally myself against the day.
Scabbing angry tattooed gypsy soul;
Those sour words at the back of my throat
Let loose and I let them.
Bite and burn like acid on that loving heart.
To break those chains and break myself apart
and find the marrow worth saving,
Braving this skin that I'm in.
Freezing, bleeding, needing and believing
I can begin again-
tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow....
