Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Little Girl Lost

She wears cynicism like a large cape
It swings from her freely
But hugs tight around her neck
She festoons her life with emptiness and doom
Never believing in possibilities
Her cups aren’t merely half full, they are brimming
Brimming with the fullness of losses
The surety of nothing ever (so stark an image, I know)
No cuddliness for her
Nothing soft or warm
A reptilian existence of scaly slimy conceit
She is still but a teenager
How did her wiring make her so resilient to love?
What took away her soft innocence in toto?
Replacing it with all hard edges
Sex will only ever be a physical release
Dependent on detaching mind and emotion from the act
Pleasures are not to be savored
They will suffer later from harsh critiques
Ultimately mocked and abused
Memories will endure the same fate
Save those of loss, hurt and loneliness
Those will be her treasures
Go ahead, try to save her
She’ll not have it
Welcome to her angst

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