The Parlour

That crummy bar

Where the lights are dim

So you can’t see the stains


Take me there


Get me something on ice


I’ll hold my glass at an angle as I talk to you


The voice… in my head

She’s jealous…


…of you


I’ll burn into her face with a cigarette

To shut her up


But she won’t… stop


She taunts me, teases me,

With serious intent


And I just sit there and take it



Everyone gets the scars they deserve

One thought on “The Parlour

  1. Yea, that is true…we just take it. strange thing that. You capture our vulnerablity Rebecca. We just take it…I do not know why that is. A kind of paralysis.

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