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Lauren Goedde Poem
Her black stilettos
Graze the cracking pavement, the concrete
Exhausted
Through years of constant contact
Neglected.
They click rhythmically-
Her routine on this avenue well rehearsed,
Every footstep tonight
Falls with the same
Deliberation
As last night.
The moon, barely crescent-shaped tonight,
Smirks with unbearable cruelty,
Tomorrow it may simply
Fade-out
If it chooses, but if only.
When they whistle her head turns,
That perfectly feigned smile of enticing desire
Never faltering as if
Denial
Could scratch out those memories,
Quiet her racing thoughts,
Calm her flashbacks.
But even restrained and exposed,
She doesn’t fear them as se does
Him.
With one glance he has her
Vulnerable,
Weak,
Blatantly tortured.
The thick black eyeliner she wears
Dissolves unhindered into the corners of her eyes,
No real difference between the shade of the liner and
The darkness behind her lashes.
Sobriety is hostile,
The liquor that dominates her senses
A welcome consolation,
Blurring
One memory into the next,
A welcome consolation.
When she breathes the exhale
Toxic,
Poisoned by apathy and
Divine numbness,
When she speaks her voice harsh,
Years of chewing razor blades,
Drowning in alcohol,
Swallowing defiance.
Reality tastes sour on her tongue,
Overwhelming jealously an incessant sting,
The whip still snaps.
Her nocturnal existence will not permanently
Sedate
The biting discomfort that
Gnaws continuously on her judgment,
When he returns can she look him in the eye?
Remembering triggers a dry laugh,
How can he speak that word
She cannot think it without spitting.
But another drag of the cigarette,
Another sip from the bottle,
The image dies in her mind,
This alley will be her comfort tonight.
And with the moon still faintly smirking,
She settles down on the cracking pavement,
Black stilettos curled underneath her,
And shuts her eyes to a world
That long ago shut its doors to her.
Copyright © Lauren Goedde | Year Posted 2009
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