Pretty Girls

Off to my right somewhere deep
within a void of empty space
time lapse shifting gears reverse
I can hear voices
silly chatter from Pretty Girls
silly chatter that is reminiscent
of days gone by
like a sledgehammer
coming down on me
slamming against my brain
opening old wounds
the ones hidden deep inside
wrapped tightly within layers
of insecurities, fears and sins
cardboard box
gift wrapped – no silk ribbon
no celebratory greeting card
I love you, Anonymous
camouflaged like a soldier
hiding from the enemy
always under fire
under the microscope
of drones and starlight
Pretty girls with long finger tips
full lips – hair glistening
under florescent lights
silly chatter, laughter floats
above what doesn’t matter
innocently oblivious to surroundings
– with a different bend
a swift perspective
judgment call
from all sides up, down
uncomfortable shift
eyes hide – good, bad, evil
“Who the fuck do you think you are…”
– attitude vents from obscurity
obvious distraction, stumbled upon
left foot slips from the sidewalk
and all is not lost on a few
patience runs thin
and memories are a flip-book
out of real time – out of sync
Pretty Girls smile with sincerity
at someone on the other side
hand tremble coffee spill
morning rush hour trip up
who knew what was buried
deep inside could be so easily
uncovered by the silly chatter
of Pretty Girls

© 2016 TrilbyYates