She had that
******* lust,
bent and broke;
taking life hard
and fast from behind.
She had the eyes of
a serial killer,
with a splash of
rainy afternoon sadness.
I met her at the
homeless shelter, and her
soul was a
vagabond with a vengeance.
Her heart was an abyss.
Life had ****** her up
beyond repair.
No way was love gonna'
fix that train wreck,
that calculated mess.
In the end,
the best I
could do
was not
slip away with her.