***

her heels click on the street floor
they have picked up filth and grime from pacing the street
laddered stockings
bruises bloom beneath her skin
and grazes like stitching are laced up her legs
her corset is laced tight
squeezing her delicate ribs tight, breaking them
oh so slowly
stuffed between her chest
are silver strips, rubber circles inside
As she staggers up and down her street
she cough and splutters and stumbles,
pretty pink pills rushing through her veins
tequila churns in her stomach
rushing up her throat
impurities drip horribly out of her mouth
down her front
on her shorts
on her shoes
on the floor

Whore