She moves like a languid lynx
slinking across glass littered alleys
tacky with the tears
of so many shattered dreams.
Hard and heartless, she has closed down
using her body as a commodity.
To survive, to entrap, to getting what she wants.
Unsure that even she knows.
Men made her this way.
From a father who held her too dear
to a brother she fought with fear.
From boyfriend to boyfriend
each one always the same…..
It was only the faces and bodies
Women too had a hand here.
A mother who turned from her tears
to a sister who could only feel relief.
From girlfriend to girlfriend
relationships found growing in rocky graves
mistrust and jealousy….
It was only the clothes and hair
No time for tears.
No time for love.
No time for comfort.
Delving into the underbelly
schooled in trash
she moves like a languid lynx
sidling through the shadows.
Your worst dream.
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