Misery Business

The model says 2017 but the soul says 2007. Loose change buzzes. I sing about that bitch that broke my heart. I belt to a different wound that may or may not exist every 3 minutes or so. I back into a driveway next to an SUV with a car seat in the rear. I have my fill of misery and wash off the guyliner. The smile doesn't wash off.