She wears a raven skull
Around her neck
Her last break up
An expiration date
Tattooed on the back of her neck
She is the night
City lights and car crashes
Each step an explosion
As she walked
No need for escorts
Her mouth, the perfect weapon
Sharpened tongue, blood red lips
She speaks slowly to bleed out their listening
She is a ghost
Broken images and red vines
Tucked in the back
She is black upon black
Watching quietly
Her breath, twisting cigarette smoke
Stares through everyone in the room
Making them uneasy
With every twitch of her wrist
She is rainy days
Rejection and existence
Everyone recognizes her
None know her name
She remains a mystery
Walking the city sidewalks
Ducking in and out of every social haunt
Her outline shakes
Her unravelling smells like mildew
And hangs for a moment too long
After she leaves
She is madness
Poetic Trials 