Red Lipstick at a Vintage Bar
In borrowed heels, her
Mama’s dress
She walks to the bar alone,
One last spray of cheap
perfume
Trickles down her collar
bone…
Walks up the stairs, into
the room
And she always looks the
same,
Her hands clenched behind
her skinny back
Her troubled little frame…
Well no one said her life
was easy,
But they’ve never stopped
to ask
Where is it she comes from?
Is she ever going back?
Red lipstick on her restless
smile, and
You can see it in her
wrists,
Pulsing faster as she finds
him
Drinking whiskey with a
twist….
He’s tried before to save
her,
To mend her injured heart,
Still he swears he’ll never
quite give up,
You know he’s loved her
from the start…
Her hidden scars that no
one sees,
Warm blood that no one
feels,
He knows her soul’s gorgeous
mess,
He knows her pain is real…
Fastened eyes across the
room
The band plays a tune so
blue,
With shivered lips she
mouths the words,
“Boy, this song was made for me and you…”
Her fingers start to tremble now
And she reaches for his
hands,
She prays that he won’t let
her down,
For this is her first dance…
She’d never trust a man
before
Enough to hold her in his
arms,
But something in his deep
green eyes
Ignites a vicious charm….
He spins and twirls and
lifts her up
He knows she’s his for
sure,
But something stops, she pulls
away
And she rushes to the door…
Well no one said her life
was easy
but they never stop to ask,
Where is it she’s going to?
Is she ever coming back?
-Holly Amber Wolti
1/6/2013
