Champagne and Old Movies

I see it in your eyes at times the toll it all has taken the illusions you fell for your hands passing through projections of people reaching out for them to find they were never there their hearts elsewhere feeling the bruises on your back from their footprints after they used you as a stepping stone to where they thought the lights shone brighter I’m nobody no femme fatale turning heads a simple scribbler of words that I hope a few may find meaningful certainly not at all what you’re used to I see through the banality the superficiality the egotistic, narcissistic morass Someone that would rather be appreciated over celebrated A cozy pajamas and fuzzy slippers on a cold winter’s night drinking cheap champagne watching old movies wrapped up in a warm fluffy blanket cuddling on the couch kind of girl but if you were to reach out to touch me I’d be there