deepundergroundpoetry.com
SKIN OF MELISSA
Butterflies on the skin of Melissa,
and other curious tattoos of despair.
The car is running.The garage door is closed.
"Mom,I don't think she can get any air..."
The letters on the window...
Spell her short goodbyes...
Farewell to all of her heroes...
Who couldn't keep her alive.
Butterflies on the skin of Melissa.
Strong enough to fly her far from here.
Summer night and that window's unopened.
"Mom,I don't think she's going anywhere."
Her imprint of existence.
Was always this goodbye.
Farewell to all the heroes.
That could not recognize.
and other curious tattoos of despair.
The car is running.The garage door is closed.
"Mom,I don't think she can get any air..."
The letters on the window...
Spell her short goodbyes...
Farewell to all of her heroes...
Who couldn't keep her alive.
Butterflies on the skin of Melissa.
Strong enough to fly her far from here.
Summer night and that window's unopened.
"Mom,I don't think she's going anywhere."
Her imprint of existence.
Was always this goodbye.
Farewell to all the heroes.
That could not recognize.
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