The junkie girl, "sleeping" in the sun

Stretching out her legs

Blocking the sidewalk (ever so slightly)

Choking on the sympathy of strangers.

Her hair is a bit knotted

Her skin is a little bit gray

You will never speak to her

There is nothing you can say.

She is the discarded flower

With her beauty quickly fading

No longer the object of desire

Out in the rain- waiting.

Burnt out- like ash from a cigarette

Used up- like a cotton.

Out of sight.

Out of mind.

Out of money.

Out of time.

Addicted.



