Like a Vaudeville show

Edie Monique
Jul 23, 2017 · 1 min read

To most I was a mystery
To him I was his muse

Moments of us like a Vaudeville show on a stage only we knew
My love affair behind closed doors kept me hidden from our world torn apart
How many times I poured in a glass with scents of nights before
Soft kisses with the brokenness I wore every time I poured just to pour
The scent on my breath he knew too well
As the bottle lay beside he knew all I was trying to hide

To most I was a broken mess
To him I was ever so beautiful in that dress

I was his everything, I was his nothing
To get lost in me, with me, beside me
With or without the passion for all those empty glasses
It was him who saw the beauty in me, saw all I could be
How he wanted to show me what I failed to see
I was consumed with proving him wrong every time he sang that song

To most I was the girl who closed all her doors
To him I was so much more

Edie Monique

Written by

Poet. Songwriter. Empath. Intuitive. Creative Entrepreneur. Spiritual Being Having A Human Experience.

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