SUICIDE ANGELS
she has carefully styled blonde hair
a beautiful body
and a face that wouldn’t look out of
place in a fashion magazine
and for the past month
i have seen her working the strip
her stunning blue eyes slightly
glazed from drugs though she’s
so new to it all she still looks good—
she actually looks better than good;
and she is,
though after living in kings cross for
ten years now i have seen it all before,
they come along young and beautiful
and still in control of their lives,
though time passes quickly and soon
enough their faces are grey and hard
and their bodies look like starved twigs
and minds no longer think of anything
but scoring:
their brains completely fried
so that any request, even from the most
hideous men
no longer offends;
their shame and feelings of self preservation
having died long ago with all those brain
cells:
anything now to score—
and feel good again.
love the sentiment and feeling in this poem