Dancing On the Edge of a Pin

She was a tiny angel of a woman mindlessly moving, in a chemical faze her heart baracaded, tormented from her long, lonely days while dancing on the edge of a pin. Dreaming images with her feet, twirling oblivious on a pole, trying to live a shoddy role stripped of dignity, ripped of grace imposed upon her lifeless soul Her teardrops falling, slowly slipping, silently dripping, leaving behind their clear, salty trace as they slide down her cheeks, like icy blue, watery veins on her tear, stained face She dances mindlessly from one seedy cloud to another in faded memories blurred by her past Through hazy, watery depths she bleeds tying to quench a thirst so deep in her hemorrhaged, sedated heart, so worn, so torn, by her dreams that did not last As she slides down the pole~ she floats in a hazy, igneous swirl of aqueous diluted anesthesia. Demons eat and devour through her darkened descent of amnesia Painful depths that turn and twist in her hazy, muddled reality of unspeakable memories that cannot exist, lest they drive her deeper.... to a shattered demise Her childhood dreams stripped cruelly of their parts, allowing her mind to wander in an unconscious state of grace from hungry teeth marks left on her innocent, delicate skin Cheap neon lights bathed the trashy, shoddy floors that smell of stale cigarettes and booze in seedy, darkened bars Dangerous, dingy, low rent neighborhoods, leased by lurking, slovenly men who try and grope her every move. She sits on a bar stool sipping amber, colored water from a dirty, shot glass waiting for drunk, greasy men to approach, handing her their rumpled, grimy cash. Two dollars a dance~ to the tune of one weary, old song. Or ten dollars an hour to some bleary eyed man for an endless moment she'll dutifully belong. Shadowy features, biting at her heels Unnamed creatures gripping, ripping her heart into clawed, broken shreds of steel from many wounds that cannot heal One sad morning, the headlines of the daily news printed one more obituary of a life badly abused. Her parents were sent a note from the club that said: "Your daughter used to work here, will you please stop by.... and pick up her clothes and shoes?"