My Very own Nevada

I was twenty-seven years’ old
my spark gone
lost all hope in love
was drowning
in my very own
sin city
 
I remember
the day
and hour
my alarm clock
died willingly
 
I felt nothing
 
I didn't even notice
 
every hour was the same
 
Dark
Cold
Empty
Lonely
 
I pinned myself
to a bill board
on Fremont Street once
 
but nobody saw me
 
a million tiny lights
and I still didn't shine
 
someone once told me
if I wanted to touch the sun
first I’d have to climb out of these
my deepest darkest fires of hell
 
and, I finally did…
with naked feet.