Fast Talker, Sleep Walker, and What a Nice Little Girl You Are

Fast Talker, Sleep Walker, and What a Nice Little Girl You are

Unplug, she says
Waiting in the wings devoutly
As whispers hover over her thin layer of skin
She walks a tightrope
Smashes lightbulbs with tiny fists
And watches them bleed in clever drops
Sleep is her number one enemy
Or best friend, she can't decide
A numbing ride had brought her here
To a false awakening
A pretend spring
And where she thought she would blossom, she fell
Tumbled beyond the reach of any arm or mind
She lays in silence
For silence knows her, sees her
But has never graced her with its presence
And so she is halved
With only pieces of her face visible in daylight
Others shattered, torn, or taken
Buried in bus terminals and stale bars
She peddles pounds of dignity from one side of the city to the other
Never trusting what she can come home to
And what will be washed away before she returns