Oh Bitch, You'Re Weary! Poem by Barlot ...

The night was storming as she sat alone
Unheard voicemail on the phone
Meant nothing
Like everything.
It was that time of year
Where the memories poured
Past her layers of hair
And years of care.
The only barricade is redemption
Which left way back when...
The helpless addict showed signs of sin.
They've turned their backs
When she needed them
But then they just crawled back
As she sat and pressed ignore
The phone still vibrated in her head!
She's dead to them
She's dead
Send condolences to the list
With hardened fingertips
Who she once had futures with in the past
They never last
She can't grasp their attention like she used to
She's dead...
To herself
To everyone...
She's dead.