8inch black healed

8inch black healed feet,
tapping to the beat
of her coffee fuelled schizophrenic
rambling to no one in particular.
at least there's no one sat in front of her
rambling to an empty chair
her blood red lips run of continuously
pointing to undefinable persons with an unlit cigarette.

the house is packed with Christmas frenzy
as i stir and read and watch this loved creation,
dwelling in a reality
the rest of us are absent.

bleached hair,
slicked back black roots
showing dark eyes wandering.

coffee in hand she smiles,
its contagious i smile with her.
some one, some where
on some plain of distant being
makes her laugh
eyes wild and bright
defying any and all who question her grip on our reality.

her words do not carry across the dull rumble of luncheon gossip
yet she stands out on a pillar of fresh air,
a goddess tall amongst the low base occupants.

suddenly,
her smile terms to a grimace
and i instantly want to know this woman.
what secrets is she divulging to the world
what conspiracies is she uncovering
what truths is she discovering
from beneath the sludge of our collective sanity
i smile
this women is free from the cares of this twisted world
this woman is a slave to her own mind