Waiting for the theatre.
Not the greasepaint and glitter kind,
The scary scalpel suction kind.
My costume an open backed frump sack,
Out of it,
Tripping on tranqs.
Thirsty, nervous, needy for love,
Searching in strange places
Reaching out to unknown faces,
Will anyone care if I never come back?
Counting the minutes
In blood pressure increments,
I dig the sedation
Please
Give me some for the rest of this year?