veronicas planet

suburban bliss

All she had left was a half empty bottle of cough syrup,
she held on until her knuckles were white.
I think she was afraid it would spill
One more mess
One more mess
A sing song torture inside her mind.
I watched her from across the parking lot,
making assumptions,
Suburban Bliss
Tears did not fall,
I suppose,
truth only brushing,
the tip of what i had not lost.