Queen Of Nothing Now.
Queen of nothing now.
Beneath the caked-on makeup,
and the tarantula mascara,
the hard lines, and the hungry look,
there is a young girl in ruins,
her tattered soul flapping
in the inner city winds
trying to find a john
but not to relieve herself,
only her jones, the needle and the rush,
dress too tight to breathe accentuates,
all that made her a prom queen once,
now sagging a bit, and scarred,
at the crooks of elbows and knees,
which hold the tracks of her downfall,
condoms and cigarettes fill her clutch bag,
dreams long since emptied from her soul,
her soles pound the streets each night,
looking for some quick tricks
to make her feel human again,
after the spewing out, and the injecting in,
she can float like she did on that float,
in the homecoming parade,
a few more spasms in the front seat
of a Lexus or a Cad,
"Hell they are all cads now."
and some spurts of passion spent cheaply,
forty bucks a pop, and she will go home
to her one bedroom walkup, unfurnisned,
and crash on the stained mattress
found in a dumpster behind a Goodwill store.
sadly her next trick,
in a phsycopathic rage,
slits her throat as he reaches climax,
and dumps her in an alley
just east of hopelessness.
she is found the next morning,
just the ruins of what was
the girl all the guys wanted
just a few years ago,
in the hometown she long ago orphaned.
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