I wasn't there

The price of my pain is threehundred dollars

I blow smoke up in the air

dollar after dollar

until my throat aches

I sit around at landmarks of the city
making tourists uncomfortable by my teary and desperate presence
I try to lock eyes with people on the subway
to make someone see me in this city where I've learned to hide

I spin my index finger in amber waves in my glass
and flirt with men at the bar

that'll be seven dollars, ma'm

until I feel hazy and get the courage to finally go home

And yet I am not numb enough to look you in the eye

but I have no more cash

You look at me and tell me it's time to be past this

because our lives are still the same

So we go back to work,

play board games at the bar with your friends and

we share the covers in the bed

where nothing is the same