Champagne and Old Movies
I see it in your eyes at times
the toll it all has taken
the illusions you fell for
your hands passing through
projections of people
reaching out for them to find
they were never there
their hearts elsewhere
feeling the bruises on your back
from their footprints
after they used you as a stepping stone
to where they thought the lights shone
brighter
I’m nobody
no femme fatale turning heads
a simple scribbler of words
that I hope a few may find meaningful
certainly not at all what you’re used to
I see through the banality
the superficiality
the egotistic, narcissistic morass
Someone that would rather be
appreciated over celebrated
A cozy pajamas and fuzzy slippers
on a cold winter’s night
drinking cheap champagne
watching old movies
wrapped up in a warm fluffy blanket
cuddling on the couch
kind of girl
but if you were to reach out
to touch me
I’d be there
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