night after night
she walks into wonderland
under hazy streetlights
to let thorns
shred her delicate petals
now her rosebud, gone forever
her eyes as dark
as the rolling tires
on the highways
that she sells herself on
sell your soul to the devil
he will let you keep the change
drunk on despair
and living on borrowed time
the wolves of yesterday
the dirt under her fingernails
linger like the voices
of the monsters under her bed
creamy thighs spread wide
for an endless audience
to spoon her milky honey
lick their fingers clean
clean of their conscience
the white washed walls
may the prickly blood
of the cold winter
not stain the white walls
or shrivel the leaves
but lead her to the water
and set sail in a teardrop