Fifty dollar notes pile underneath my
desk and i don't know where they
originated.
Oh poorlittlerichgirl,
Poor little Charliered perfume-smothered
girl.
But i think it's stolen.
Oh if i was a richgirl
if i was a wealthygirl.
Stolenthieifstolen he was a second-hand thief.
It's hot this afternoon.
Seven hours' sleep in my head.
Slamming doors riling my boa constrictor.
There's a place for you, i, they,
but i've not come across it yet
and i need to open my window.
The fifties will blow away.
Here are my broken heels and
red, infected splotches.
Blood last night shocked a boy
but not a girl.
Never A Girl.
Have they gone?
written: Thursday 13th January 2005, 1:22pm.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 321