Monroe

Lights and cameras,

diamons and drinks

so many people...

so little room to breathe.

I smile and wave,

I laugh and charm,

I always leave the room with a man around my arm.

A bright, beautiful world

with material things

but then I get home...

and it's... just me...

and my 

thoughts

and my

past

with too much time to think.

I take off the makeup,

the jewels-

and I sink.

People say that I'm treasured,

yet I'm tossed around like meat,

married men and late nights,

my own unmerciful defeats.

How amazing a girl,

to catch the eyes

of writers and presidents

that never stay past midnight.

I shake hands, and laugh

and life is almost too beautiful to even see...

but then I get home

and it's... just me...

and my thoughts

and my mistakes

and there's a drawer full of pills that I am willing to take,

so I do,

then I'm scared,

And I immediately call for care.

They fix me up, agree not to talk about it again,

and i'm out of there.

Then I'm back to my life,

which I should want to live

"still so young"

"still so beautiful"

still so much to give.

I smile some more,

and wave some more,

and leave the world in woe.

I seem to have everyone fooled...

they just can't get enough of monore.

A bright, beautiful world

with men that always

leave

their love is far from free,

and when I go home,

it's just me..

and my thoughts

and my mistakes

and a bottle of pills that I am willing to take.

With an already used body,

with an already abused self,

I take some more pills,

except this time

I don't call for help.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world

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