In dependant women i find the brink of lost hope
A tilted ice skating rink
With a layer of soft soap.
A broken vase. Poker face. No joker, ace.
The hand shes dealt is knuckles
and a battery of bible belt buckles
She wears the make up so he wont lose face.
Fat slouch, soiled briefs, mouthful of tooth paste.
He's a relic from a past era.
She will never run faster than her mascara.
Scared...waiting for the second R to come
Scarred...no healing, beckon martyrdom.
Far from numb...but palsy ingrained
A flesh of mesh...and everything taken in vein.
Maiden turned maid
Laden with Jade
A once bright son, faded to shade.
Lost first, past second, now life is third nature.
Memory’s mummery and mammary’s milk
Now nothing but a trifle herd of stray blurs...
Eyes of overdue cataracts
Still life lies in matters of fact.
Her excuses are frail.
Each night she reads her bruises like Braille.