Text

end of the road
broken glass
at my feet
head pounding
headache baring
its claws
there are girls
here
girls with beautiful
forms
thin
long limbs and
perfect hands

they're hanging

heads lolling mouths
gray with death
ropes stretched around
their necks
on their wrists there
are symbols etched
in brown black gaping
wounds that leer
drooled blood dried
into crusts

these are the girls that
wished so hard to
be perfect that
they shrank into skeletons
when they met thin
at the end of the road
she offered them a sharp
smile and a razor blade
always a foot
a yard
a mile away
they would never touch her
cool pale skin and
never taste the bitterness
of her lips

the blood squishes underneath
her high heeled shoes
and still she beckons
other girls on
has wooed some young
men
(teasing them)
hands them their ropes
and points to a branch
from the dead trees
that litter the end of
the road

i'm going to hang today

maybe then i will feel the
brush of her hair against
my cheek