She sits with a bottle in her hand.
The hippies mourning in sorrow
peace signs held, oil seeped
into the skin that you
now see as damaged.
****** images that will remain
unknown.
Rain and alcohol
Clawing at the front door breaking
your throat.
snow packed inside her lungs.
Years passed of abusive melodies
full of teasing whispers
Broken glass dancing with her flesh
My friends, you will remain unknown.
Cigarettes inhaled to shorten the experience.
Jeans too tights for the pleasure of his fingers
against her ****.
He is your savior,
but your suppressor.
She will die unhappy.