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Her head's full of lonesomeness

Her heart stained with oil.

She's sliding on a streaked slab

And no one knows her.


Metal rides the wind

Oil splashes into her eyes.

Her glare destroys the playground

Smoking in a burnt-out Buick.


She wants nothing near.

She walks away from the world.

She presses a fossil of love to her forehead.

She feels like an empty gun.


Oh come to me, love

Let me bathe you in dreams

And cover you in the black filthy oil

Of my failure and success.


There is no closure. Death is the closure, if nothing else.