Gibberish

Dipping in and out of rainbow colors,
Falling down a spiral monsoon.
Dripping wet in technicolored sin,
And singing drops of rain to the moon.

Let her fall into the depths of the Hell we call home,
Let her dance on fiery coals with pleasure.
Let her tiptoe through a field of poppies,
And hold her breath, as she goes under.

Skipping barefoot on the wet asphalt,
Chin to the dimming sky,
Her cares fade away.
She closes her eyes, and prays.

Where is the man on the moon when she needs him?
Where is her fairy godmother?
She swears in the night, they haunt, and she sees them,
But fairy tales were never her style.

Her skin is bare,
The reflection of rain drops amplify
The bronze tone of her pigment.

She scales the edge of a brick building,
Only looking to the sky,
Her fingers bleeding from grasping,
Her lungs collapsing from gasping.

Let her breathe in the colors
That no others can see,
She is climbing her way to the top,
Of all she can be.
Just let her inhale the sweetest aromas of sin.
Let pleasure and pain- evenly sink in.