deepundergroundpoetry.com

old friends

Sleaze drips from his sleeve
where his heart used to be
his body wide with arrogance
removing all traces of who he was
back when he wore his crazy with humility
and conversation didnít come with a price tag
or offers that left my skin crawling
like Iíd just been asked to prostitute myself
for information

We canít see the ground when weíre looking at the sky
and I might have forgotten what the stars look like
but I still know theyíre there
all too aware of the earth beneath my feet

He said
ďyouíre looking goodĒ
fooled by my smile and the new height
I wear from small fought battles
that keep getting me out of bed in the morning
and all the answers to the status quo questions
slip from my tongue as lies
because social niceties trump honesty
in the face of old friends
who arenít who they used to be

No one remembers us for who we are
they remember us for who we used to be
and Iím still enough of who I was
that the light dims in the presence of those
who remind me of where Iíve come from
when the currencies I traded in
werenít silence or money

Sleaze drips from his sleeve
where his heart used to be
and Iíve given up chasing ghosts
looking for reflections of faces that donít exist anymore
his scribbled number on the coffee ringed napkin
slipping from my grasp
into the rain soaked street
to be washed away just like the minutes yesterday

© Indie Adams 2013
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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