that part of her is gone.
the part that makes the right decisions.
she abandoned it, with the hope
that she would feel.
those vultures eat her up;
scorching her innocence.
she'll take any closeness,
even if it's the wrong kind.
anything to feel wanted.
when all she ever felt was superfluous.
whispered nothings soothe her ears,
empty embraces chain her down.
fill your liver with love toxins,
your lungs with that sanguine smokiness.
take yourself to that world.
where, for a night, you are needed.
sitting by the phone, diminished confidence.
she opens her little black book...
and writes.