Seatbelt Hands

She's the kind of lady that calls everybody baby

honey, sugar, sweetie, she's always making friends

and she keeps us all locked outside her thick leather skin

she always starts with a smile, it's small and butter yellow

but easier than a handshake, doesn't like her hands touched

she tans alot, gets burnt alot smoking through the cartons

but then gets put out so much, she's considered a bargain

she was born on the fourth of july with her hand on her heart

loves america, & being patronized, no one ever told her to guard her heart

she was an angel for halloween once, but never again

and for christmas ever year she's haunted by demons

they always tell her they love her.

she used to believe in innocence until she lost it

and spent a long summer, riding the trains

she has cats and collectors plates to keep her sane

watching TV in her favorite chair...both of which are rented

she's alone, and surrounds herself with loners

her life is a loan, lent out to anyone who will own her

waiting for the night to sweep her off her feet, while she mops the bathroom floor

hoping for a winning ticket or a man to treat her right

but they're both a gamble and she's been a loser all her life

and if she had a nickel for every time she's been punched and kicked

she'd put it together with her camel cash, try to buy some happiness

they always tell her they love her, but then they take something from her.

she would always show us her dreams

they were crumpled up like leaves from holding on too tight

scattered in her shoebox coffin on the cardboard walls covered in butterflies

she's got love in her heart for her babies, and hope in her mind for tomorrow

and blood on her hands that only she sees, holding the last bit of time that's borrowed

but you never know where that heart has been, and we'll never know how hard it's been

I wanna cut open my chest and let her in, but that won’t fix what needs to mend

and she stands there unlit cigarette in hand

filling up that empty hole with anything that’ll pour

insides hanging out like a flare, warning.

there’s beauty in that pain, can you see it?

she’s crashing through life with seat belt hands

one accident away from a miracle

and there’s an honesty there, but I can’t take it all in

she hides the worst of it in the wrinkles

that’s the ache you get when there’s no where else to go.

and she’s got no where else to go, she doesn’t want to go there.

so I promise I’ll go with her.