Her hair falls softly, she never truly smiles. Watching her as she bathes, her beauty overwhelming her heart so wild. She walks towards me, all wet and with that smile. She opens her door for me and invites me for a while. Do you believe in Paradise? Do you believe in hell? Look straight into my eyes. The aroma of sulfur mixed in with salt water and sand. A new day, a show upon the tables. Where the voices will rise and the man will close the bar and walk her home. She never truly smiles, she just reveals a smirk or a grin. Her heart beats wild but she'll never let you in. She is aglow with a sordid sort of purity, red eyes and pink hair, the stream of freedom has held her captive and now she can never truly be free. A new day, a show as she dances up on the tables, of a seedy bar off of highway thirty five. You see her dry crying, false smiling and moving to a beat but she is barely alive. I remember her before she died and became a slave to false freedom. #poem #poetry #poet #poetrycommunity #poems #writer #spilledink #addiction #alone #writing #poetryisnotdead #writingcommunity #writerscommunity #lyrics #creativewriting #dancing #lost #poets #writers #poetsociety #poetsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #poetsofig #writersofig #loveInstagram

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