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 shows everyone her dreams, 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, gun, 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, doesn’t want to go there.  I promise I’ll go with her.