Friday, December 1, 2017

Street Walker

Knee high plastic boots painted red.
Ruby lips pursed in a frown.
Sheer stockings all torn and frayed.
A swirl of smoke from her Marlboro.
Wide hips spilling from cut denim.
Fry grease stains dampen her collar.
Desperate for a few dollars made.
A brown sedan slumbers to crawl.
He shouts out his barter for sex.
Staring with eyes unseen you sing.
The words your mother sang to you.
As she held you close in her arms.
Unfeeling his hands upon you.
Grabbing your breast. Him in you.
Your body ravaged and beaten.
The stench of stale breath and his sweat.
Suffocating. Forgive me you cry.
Silently. Noone can hear you.
Hush little baby. A daughter.
Don't say a word. A victim.
You are a piece of meat. Eaten.
Who's your Daddy? Who's your pimp?
He is going to sex you. Use you.
The moonlight danced through the window.
She lay naked across the bed.
A fistful of dollars lain bare.
The blood fom her wrist spliced open.
Her mother's soothing voice whispers.
Not anyone's whore anymore.


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