L.O.O.S.E

At the cusp of her lash

Lies the tear from the other night

When she downed another glass

And embraced all that was vice

In solitude she sat, cross-legged

Before the mirror, in her bareness

Looked into it and smiled

Looked into it and cried

Held her face in her palms and sighed

Then rolled along the floor and howled

Those freckled walls and the insolent dresser

Remained there unperturbed

The empty couch and the dirty sheets

Stared into her helplessness unstirred

And then you walk in

Closing the door behind

Pulsed with desires you walk towards the bed

She lays there silent with her legs spread

Done with your business

You walk away with no words exchanged

All you leave her with,

Is some white trash

Each day, you burn down

The rims of her only bridge to life

With each glass of whiskey

She has gulped down her pride

Another night passes by

With one of you again

Her numb insides, sore

Her bruised soul lingers

Somewhere in the dark corners

Of her carcass, the little that has remained

And she embraces all your vice

Closing her eyes

Remaining mute in the pain