Just a child
and he took her

for a pocket full of change

he stole her night away-
heroin in her veins

he couldn't look her in the face
but wanted the whole world to see-
"look what I just did - look at me"

For the moment she was his lovely-
his crush
his trophy in the dark

At the moment he was her monster-
her beast
her friend-for-a-fix

She is somebody's child-
nobody's sweetheart
everyone's trash

He is late for dinner-
roses on the front seat
trash in the back

There are no tissues for the tears
and no hands to hold-
when the sliver moon
shows its silver smile
there are no long goodbyes

He took from her what he could
and left her with reminders of
yesterday's lovers
and one-night-stands

Before midnight she will return
to that torn, dirty mattress she calls an office
and ask that her calls be held...
she is a fallen angel-
a broken wing,
desperate for one more fix

With a dim light swinging from overhead
she runs her fingers through her greasy hair
and hollers, "Next".

05/08/2011

Posted on 05/08/2011
Copyright © 2025 Gregory R Schelske