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primitive she was always one to
mistake dreams for reality
things weren't really getting better
nor were they getting worse
she could always handle it
indifference was hers
when cigarette smoke
would fill her head
it all numbed
away in shock
surrounded by evil wordly demons
yet never once even reached by their breath
she imagined all
that could never be
his smile made her believe
that she was often
on his mind
then she would go home
sit down in bliss and sorrow
and write a poem
about how she and he were
meant to be together
she was always one
to mistake dreams for reality
