poetry

#16 Rocket Woman

It’s lonely up here
in Lala Land,
forgotten what it’s like for touchdown to begin,
these stars burned and etched right into my skin.

I drink blood, I dance in Mars,
nothing in here fazes me,
I wouldn’t suggest raising your kids here,
Herein lives the loathing and the fear.

It’s my full-time job, Monday to Friday,
Surviving the hours, carving the minutes,
It’s going to be a long time before I come down,
There’s absolutely zero in the things I’ve found.

I miss everyone,
I just want to come home.
It’s about time.
Can someone give me a hand?

Because it’s lonely up here,
in Lala land.

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