You left your
heart at home and
travel the streets by
yourself, followed by the
stares of men three times your
age. You throw up your
hands and fall back on the
asphalt, closing your eyes and
holding your scream muffled by the
palm you can’t fight away. Your eyes
roll back and you fall
asleep.
You wake up a
few hours later, legs
painted purple. You pick up
whatever’s left of your
clothes and your
dignity and
run home to down a
bottle of pills and perhaps
forget about
everything
completely.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s