Cigarette in hand,
a bottle of liquid in the other.
Peppermints line her breath,
sober eyes of one so young.
One line to get in her pants.
Back to the wall shes surrounded.
A book brings forward memories.
Electronics and dead things are of fascination.
Who am I to call onto you for your love?
Who am I to look to you for help?
Who am I to wish you hadn't walked out of my life?
Who am I to be so happy that you are forever gone?
