publicist

baptized in the gloom.
and the lights say, that it's okay
but underneath it all
it might be dark.
and her face has always been the eye
..for a moment..
but i am no longer content with ignorance,
and randy, isn't either.
his dirty smile told me,
that his yellow frames and years of cigarettes were the only things holding back the tears.
and i wish that i could tell him
that my brain is wet as well
and it's mopping up the rainy day
that he left behind.