Hit Me Up

Every once and a while,
God hits you up for a favor
" Hey Buddy," he whispers conspiratorily,
hanging out under a lampost on a foggy San Francisco block,
Like Bogart,
real hoarse and sexy
cigarette dangling
creating just enough smoke,
for the mirrors he managed to bring to the set,
Charming you out of any good sense you might have mustered
since the last time
He hit you up.
"there's a Sweet Child O' Mine with a problem,
just give her a shoulder to cry on,
Maybe a place to spend the night,
a friend is what she needs,
an ear,maybe..."
"An eye ?"
"a nose?"
"a five, a tenspot?",
you ask, knowingly...
"Hey, Buddy - I'd do it myself, but you know there';s a lot of special requests I need to answer."
"I know, I got it, Man. No problem. I'm a Big Girl. "
You smile weakly, as the lie drips from your lips.
"Thanks, Baby, you know I'll be by...I'll take care of you, like always"
There's that promise.
Lord, you are such an outlaw.
You can feel those mirrors stabbing you in the back,
as you turn to see the Image of His "Sweet Thing"
Shattered.
She was beautiful.
Alone
She needed you
No, HE needed you.
Yo.
Next time tell him no threeways .