Overcast Song Poem by Leah Ayliffe

I'm so sick and tired of singing the same song.
It’s summer and it’s raining on us baby,
How high are we today?
Pretty, all lit up,
I don’t need to jump.
The rings got smaller and boy you know,
My hips can’t get through anymore.
Maybe they’re fit for another woman.
And no sugar blue, these diamonds were made for these slender fingers of mine,
Like your last pack of cigarettes, I’m keeping them.
Palm trees shade my black heart,
Only eyelash silhouettes speak in the orange dawn.
Sitting by swampy green pools and I’m not alone,
Neither are you my dear friend, we’d like to think so.
Hat down, gotch your cool shades on,
Cigar dwindling on your sour lips,
For no reason other than a gangster fantasy.
You stand there handsome and jazzy like Elvis,
In his blue suede shoes.
And you say often, cause you know it sounds sweet to my ears:
Thank you, thank you very much darlin’.
This time you do not get to leave the building.
This time I’m taking you down.
Our darkest desires arising,
I softly sing hush hush, my love,
In the grey morning sky of nothing dreamy.
I reach for your hundred dollar bills,
Gasping, I sing for glory.
There's nothing more glamorous than an innocent bad girl,
Lined with gold and white hearts.
I get so damn tired
singing the same song.