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Sunday, October 31, 2010

Shameful Morning

Shameful Morning
By J.S. Lambert

Not sure
how she got here.
Only know
she needs to leave.

Underneath the stranger
my arm numb, 
Mouth a desert,
a hundred dead
cigarettes dance,
tongue dry.

Princess of night,
exposed by light.
Get me out of this,
another dreaded,
morning mess.

 Bed broken,
along with my will.
I swore never again,
 the lie is half the thrill.

©2010 Shameful Morning

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

And now the walk of shame...