She dangled there,
the ground kicked from under her feet
the rope the only thing to break her fall,
to break her neck.
It didn't work.
She dangled there,
Breathless,
Hopeless,
Wishing for death.
Waiting for the Reaper, her soul to take.
Death would not, did not, come for her.
There she dangled,
Alive and yet dead to the world,
her only crime:
Being a woman alone.
*Inspired by "Half Hanged Mary" by Margaret Atwood.*