She lit up her ***, Flicked off the ash, And picked up her glass
The day started Cloudy, Raindrops like Bullets shattered against the window.
Just a woman in her room, Bracing for the day ahead- With plans she didn’t want to attend.
The kettle screaming For her to get up.
She slipped on her slippers, Wrapped in her dressing gown, Shielded against the cold Gripped the Handle, Still warm from the past, And headed downstairs-
Panicked When the toaster jumped.
The morning ended, The afternoon wisped away.
Her friends expecting her For their weekly catch-up.
She chucked on her jeans- The ones she always wore, Ripped on the knee, And a sparkly top That Shone brighter than her.
The pub loud- Louder than usual. Her friends laughing, Joking- But she’s not interested.
Feeling alone Ever Since the past left.
A man. Tall. Handsome. But cruel .
constantly told She needed someone new By the people she sat next to Every week
She rose from her seat headed outside forgot her lighter- As she always did.
Her friends didn’t smoke. With no one to ask,
A man, Who Looked like a dream, Stepped out the door- something Like a movie scene.
As he pulled out his ***, She almost compelled, marched over To ask for a light.
She lit up her ***, Flicked of the ash, Picked up her glass.