The jaded girl, a naked bed, some bad ideas, a new skin

The girl on fire at the corner of the table spouts her jaded words through your gaping ears. You throw your hands up in defense admitting defeat as the world sheds its holy skin. The air is so cold that even the branches fall from the trees. The jaded girl on fire with the jaded words jades you. You freeze to death in the sunken ship of lonliness while scrubbing the stains from the nails in your mouth. The numb blackness around your eyes are the signatures of the mournful beers and prophetic moom you bathe in night after night after ticking night. Your head like a broken faucet leaks bad ideas onto your naked bed and the one good idea you ever had you left hidden amongst the outdated sweaters hanging on a sale rack in the shopping mall of your dreams. The good idea won't be back. You left it there to be bought by a better beggar who will wear it with pride. His friends will all say how good it looks on him and what a great price he paid for it.
In the early morning movements of meager men on their way to thier meager jobs, the scratches of a pen in your hand make a symphony on the page, but ticket sales are down so the symphony sings to no one but you. Still, the meastro's hand moves swiftly and directly as though there was never another movement it was designed to perform. The air is so hot that even the branches begin to melt off the trees. That jaded girl was so good at being jaded she jaded even you. The mourners at the table drink to their health while they still have it and the dancers keep laughing while the music still plays. Sing for me a verse. Rest your head on my chest. Twirl its dark hairs through your fingers to make me feel close to something again. Actors making memories written by those who have never experienced them. The world sheds a second skin. The whole vertical beauty of it. The last true dream on a burnt-out lonely lovers quite avenue. O wail. Wail into a night sky and listen to the empty replies, the remorseful sorrows, the fantastic breathtaking magistry of it all. Wander o elegant one, until your feet bring you to the eyes of the one you bleed for and you shed the jaded girls beautiful laughter that forms your crystal clear skin.