Alive

She says
“We only live once and it's more than enough.”
She hands me a smoke and she gives me a smile.
Tells me altruistic tendencies
Are dishonest and futile.

The bar is brim-full
Of people, noise; and outside
We spill like droplets on the street,
Drip-dripping down the quayside:
The Pied Piper's procession;
She blows her own trumpet
And douses my head
In her obsession.

She says
“Life's nothing but nothing but lie upon lie,
Like a mountain of shit piled up to the sky
In the hope that perhaps we'll look God in the eye
And figure out why we are even alive.”

She smells like cotton wool,
Talks like a baffled queen,
She looks like Monet's seascapes,
Walks like a shallow stream.
Her eyes are shining moonlight,
Her touch the Promised Land,
And we share our street-lit shadow,
Walking hand in hand:
She drags, she leads, she guides, she herds
Me through the blurring city streets,
I clasp, I clamber, follow close
To her footsteps and bitter words.

She says
“I'm smart and I'm pretty and I'm funny as well,
I've never met anyone as good as me.”
I nod my stupid stranger's head
And clamour to agree.

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by Matt