a letter to myself

you are so tired that crepe heart of yours so thin,
it was always fragile, your mother helped that along didnt she? Eat another cookie to compensate, and listen to a song to rip your heart out, its just another day where nothing went your way.

I'm happy you left those men, and became a woman again, now what you ask me, now and again?
Your husband is still through the haze of thick lie a master at deception, like you when you cry, on the inside, but the pills help you keep those eyes dry, now, dont they?
I love your kids, they need you but you still work and work, make more money than ever but still push until those little mouths no longer want to kiss their mother's lips because they are trying cigarettes and cursing her.
But we will succeed at something, right?
You are doing great I will seethe to you, all fattened up on the new possessions you have, how wonderful to come home to no one's home, that 270 thousand piece of stone and wall and floor you lay that burning heart?
Don't pretned love is upon you, searing the holes up faster than depception seeps in, I know desire has fallen and so has hope.
But keep up the good work, that phony smile does wonders, life is great, work great, kids great, you will say
maybe all will believe you but in the end of this race, who will win?
And I thought life was for the living-maybe it's time we sit in...