Her boots that fuse the fishnets that hug her
thighs so tight,
The dark shadows that haunt her eyes,
caked with paint to hide the stains of toxic tears,
a history of a sad girl that gave herself to the
devils of the night,
By day she’s cordial and polite
By night a temptress selling dream of
momentary bliss in the darkest corners of her hell,
where paper happy reigns her perversely
sickening world
The greed for need of pleasurable beating
of feelings to some without shine, find
A beautiful soul so pure brought into a
devastating broken place, displayed as meat
tested and approved by FDA
skirts ride backs to expose fool’s gold,
Overwhelmed by perfumed smells of over
used broken hoes…