SHE SAT IN HER MINIVAN

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She sat wondering what he saw in her
She wasn’t the colorful person anymore
The one that laughed louder than most
Danced until her legs gave way to gravity
She wasn’t the girl with the goth hair
Or the one wearing the fishnets and heels
She wasn’t that girl anymore
She was too old, too wrinkled, too tired
She could feel the air trying to kill her
It wanted to turn her into dust, bury her
She didn’t have manikin smooth skin
And she can’t sneeze or she will pee
There are a million other girls, younger
Beautiful skin, pretty colors, funky hair
Tattoos, piercings, badass attitudes
All riding on the backs of motorcycles
While she sits watching in her minivan

6 thoughts on “SHE SAT IN HER MINIVAN

  1. Someone asked Bernard Shaw what, in his opinion, is the most beautiful thing in this world.

    “Youth,” he replied, “is the most beautiful thing in this world—and what a pity that it has to be wasted on children!”

    And, speaking of Mr. Shaw, there is this from “Don Juan In Hell”:

    DON JUAN Consider, senora: was not this true even when you lived on earth? When you were 70, were you really older underneath your wrinkles and your grey hairs than when you were 30?

    THE OLD WOMAN No, younger: at 30 I was a fool. But of what use is it to feel younger and look older?

    DON JUAN You see, senora, the look was only an illusion. Your wrinkles lied, just as the plump smooth skin of many a stupid girl of 17, with heavy spirits and decrepit ideas, lies about her age.

    Liked by 2 people

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