Baby, let me take you down to my neon room.
Nothing real happens there,
Flowers die before they bloom.
Baby, let me put you into my carousel ride.
The plastic horses are cursed,
Their guts hang out from their sides.
Baby, pull me closer as the fireworks rain down.
They might set my wig ablaze,
Turn me into a cruel clown.
Baby, kiss me as we enter the end of an era.
Let the fake lights consume you,
Just give into the terror.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 