Monroe
Lights and cameras,
diamons and drinks
so many people...
so little room to breathe.
I smile and wave,
I laugh and charm,
I always leave the room with a man around my arm.
A bright, beautiful world
with material things
but then I get home...
and it's... just me...
and my
thoughts
and my
past
with too much time to think.
I take off the makeup,
the jewels-
and I sink.
People say that I'm treasured,
yet I'm tossed around like meat,
married men and late nights,
my own unmerciful defeats.
How amazing a girl,
to catch the eyes
of writers and presidents
that never stay past midnight.
I shake hands, and laugh
and life is almost too beautiful to even see...
but then I get home
and it's... just me...
and my thoughts
and my mistakes
and there's a drawer full of pills that I am willing to take,
so I do,
then I'm scared,
And I immediately call for care.
They fix me up, agree not to talk about it again,
and i'm out of there.
Then I'm back to my life,
which I should want to live
"still so young"
"still so beautiful"
still so much to give.
I smile some more,
and wave some more,
and leave the world in woe.
I seem to have everyone fooled...
they just can't get enough of monore.
A bright, beautiful world
with men that always
leave
their love is far from free,
and when I go home,
it's just me..
and my thoughts
and my mistakes
and a bottle of pills that I am willing to take.
With an already used body,
with an already abused self,
I take some more pills,
except this time
I don't call for help.