Poem #112

It’s a lonely road for her, it’s a lonely life for her.
Under the moonlight she runs free, during the day
she hides away from the sunlight. With her eyes wide
open and her hand spread wide she is waiting for
something to creep out of the night and consume her heart.

Her lips are the color of blood, her eyes are a sea with
infinite waves of energy. Her hands have too many holes
on them and everything slips out of her reach but her legs
are strong and she keeps marching on.

Let her steal a piece of your time.
Just hide between her rhymes.
With just one touch you can give her enough
to keep this moment infinite in that little
notebook she holds close to her heart.

Don’t be afraid and let her take a piece of
your soul from your lips and she will make it
last forever with some graffiti on a piece of paper.

Just a second will be enough for her to write a love
story and then she’ll go back to the streets
hopelessly looking for love in strangers eyes.
Looking for inspiration that will keep her heart pumping blood.

She dances on her own, jumps up and down. She is drinking
the venom of oblivion from every cup and exhales a new verse
with every cigarette. She is looking for something life keeps hidden
away from her. She thinks it’s love but maybe it’s pain. It doesn’t
matter to her as long as she will be able to put it in her notebook.