The ghost of pat benetar

Sitting on our bed
We pretended to be rock stars
Fret in hand she played the air
Lips sync with a cigaret
She said she was a lesbian
And yet I found my hands thru her hair
Telling her we belong…

There was no turning back
Her feet to my headboard
Whatever I could deny
She was mercy at my feet
Hands grasping the sheet
She closed her eyes and tried to dream…

I could see her face and laugh lines
Pretending she was famous
As She kicked to the sound of the word…
Fallen under the sound hissing
From burnt out PC speakers
Tho the OS was Ubuntu
Spotify her porno…

A slow jam poured out
Telling us we were the shadows
Still surrendering to the night…
She said she was uncomfortable
And so I pulled my hands
Pretending we were alright
And ready to be let down easy…

True to the end…

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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