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an ode to myself and a broken life. |
Hennessy is what she claims that makes her life worth living. Mary Jane told her she would make it big beyond imagination But she couldn't believe it. She was tired of lying and tired of running from her own self pity and harm. She was tired and just wanted to go home. At last just when it was looking up, she crashed back down. Now how will she wake up again? She drove far and wide to find that perfect fix. She was outta control. Putting herself in danger's eyes tickled her fancy. But being under the watchful eye shook her bones brittle. She had to find the final exit door. Humping herself dry for petty cash was all she knew. She loved the attention she received constantly; no jewel in the world matched it. She loved alone though. Dragging herself home was her daily pattern. She hated that place. It was filthy and vile. Just like her. Hennessy is what she claims that makes her life worth living. Mary Jane told her she would make it big beyond imagination But she couldn't believe it. She was tired and just wanted to go home. At last just when she thought things were looking up, she crashed and burned. Now how will she wake up again? How will she wake up again, wake up again alone. A torn up mess, her place was in shambles. Unlike her lifeless body lying so elegantly in that big black box. She always cleaned up nicely. This wasn't supposed to happen so soon. A child of only 16 years, she was only 93 lbs. So lil and petite, her paren't always knew she was a walking wreck, but why this? Why now? She shouldn't have taken so much. As she lay to rest, watching those that commit what she did. She prays for their passing of peace and harmony or life of happiness and fulfillment. Hopefully, someday somebody will hear her. |