Easy Living
Put that sparkly dress on,
Kiss the mirror with your red lips,
Loving the youth you see,
Already envious of it.
Yet you tell everyone,
Not to be like you,
Because all you know and have seen,
Makes you nauseous.
The liquor, the dances, the men,
An etiquette of the carefree,
Leaves you feeling
As though you were dying.
Scared of stopping,
Since a spark only burns for so long.
Tired of loving,
Because it can only end in pain.
An innocence abandoned,
Drowning in notoriety,
Take a ride,
Let yourself be admired.
For Zelda Fitzgerald
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