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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