She bit her lip, blood let in her gums,
on the picket fence, staining white houses
with her sinful finger tips

(Said stars weren’t meant to shine but burn)

I watched her chew
Gnaw on her skin until her veins shown
in her scar tissue — not deep enough to shadow;
but visible like the bones that poked through
                            her buttoned dress

She would unbutton, tear and ruin
the tethers that held her upright
Keep her body **** for boys to
touch and gamble upon

I watched her feed off her dead skin,
hear her whisper in the dark,
remember her cries when I forgot how to feel,
and always think she is she, burning above
dim-lit strangers in the night of a car

*(The moon mourns over Jezebel, the lone lost star)