Badass Jane-Pretty Colors 2

***This is a story poem. The first part
I do not see life
not the way Jane sees it
with pretty colors
with sugary words.
I am that part
the one no one talks about
murder is my name
killing is my game.
Violence simmers
waiting for the match
the explosion
that will set me free
savage upon a populace
who live in fear.
Sauntering through the streets
watching here
watching there
I see everything…..
this is my home.
Drug dealer over there
palming the money
his customer already running.
Ladies of the night
procured
never for more than fifteen minutes
strutting beneath street lights.
I throw my head back
take a deep strong breath
howling
for soon satisfaction will run deep.
Sept. 6/18

Pretty Colors: Plain Jane

***This is the start of a story poem. I really enjoyed writing it.***

Pretty colors
dance along the walls
eyes following
tracing
seeing insanity written.
Vivid
brilliant
blinding
bewildering
the list goes on.
Emotions I feel
when the pills run out
and the little girl comes out to play.
Locked in a cell
thinking I have no escape
’til along came my other half
the badass bitch.
Compared to me
Plain Jane.
With the wave of her hand
the lock clicks free
I am able to follow
ready to run through the night.
I feel myself fading
as I become a part of Badass Jane
knowing
I was in for some fun.
Sept. 6/18