She's strung out taut,

across his sinking mattress:

blood stains on a cotton sheet,

more than one girl

has been broken here.


She's waiting for a

gentle kiss, lips going numb

with a blood rush to her

head tilted backwards:

his pillow frayed and salted

with tears from the pain

when the blood was spilled.


She's not handcuffed down

but she doesn't move:

eyes closed and she's naked,

it's more beautiful in her

fantasies than in this

faded basement with

this faded boy.


She's just another fuck

but she doesn't mind:

she's landed in another

world with her packets

of powder, the smoke

she cleared, the forty

she downed.


All she feels is the heavy

weight as he covers her

with the blanket and leaves

her with her bloodstains and tears.

Can't remember.