She lives a life of concealed seclusion
She's a captive, a hostage of promiscuous illusion
From outside looking in, it's deceiving prosperity
But the acts you'll witness are degrading vulgarity
She slips off her blouse as he lays currency down
She's praying "Oh God, just don't let me drown"
When it's done and over, it's such a relief
Tears streak her face, yet she turns back to the streets
Her heart is broken and she can't fix it, so the money she made goes straight to addiction
She tries over again to not feel degraded so she numbs all the pain until she's faded
Another fix, another John 
One​​​​​​ more night, one more con..

I can't blame who she was, that stranger staring back at me
Nor have I figured out why yesterday is more important than forever to her
​Or when exactly it was, when she "grew up"
As far as I'm concerned, it was too fast, yet no way she ever did at all
Staring at shards of shattered glass
She shares my face, my body, the idea that spiderweb cracks are infiltrating her vitality
It is mirrored with mine, as one
She is awestruck by how similar we are, silently opposing, contradictory, one side always questioning the other
She and I are interchangeable, dependent on one another, anticipating internal conflict
I've got a plan for her, to smother the lies she's whispered to me, cast them far from here, letting bygones be bygones because today's surrender is tomorrow's liberation