Runway lights blur like tears in the rear-view,

heels still drumming that last goodbye kiss.

I trade your shadow for a skyline of sequins,

each heartbeat a bassline, lifting me—

higher than promises we never kept.

Lace regrets into the jet-stream, let them fade;

tonight the clouds spin platinum under my feet.

I’m strutting the stars in stilettos of freedom,

every mile a chorus, every breath a high note

only Mariah could hold.

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Runway dripping like I bled on the seams,

Saint Laurent boots stompin’ dreams in the beams.

Gold fangs flash when I grin at the fraud,

Countin’ dead friends in my iPod.

Racks in the duffel, guilt in the duffel,

Tears on the visor, still speedin’, no shuffle.

Takeoff’s loud, but the crash gon’ be quiet—

Heaven don’t want me, Hell scared of the riot.