She Kept A Bald Distance

In the early frost her breath became both solid and ionised

So she hid in the garbagey alley behind the launderette

Waiting for the warmth

If the dryers were on

But it made her cough buckets of phlegm so then she was chased off

She kept a bald distance when she followed the urban foxes

Cause they knew all the routes to the best restaurants on their patch

Waiting for her turn

To rummage the bins

And from time to time morsels of scrapings and pork rinds were hers

She lived in the cracks of the pavement where nobody noticed

Devoid of identity, she’d forgotten all she had lost

Yet she carried on

Compelled somehow

Maybe the next penny she picked up would give her the luck

Discarded, diminished, despondent she watched as the pubs kicked out

And tried to shrink deeper inside her self lest she be seen

Cause last time had hurt

It had really hurt

And she lay there so thirsty and broken she could cry no more

Days, years went by and she trudged without destination

She gazed at her twisted reflection in broken-glass shards

As she writhed and spewed

She smiled cause she knew

Life was the only disease for which the cure was worse

When her memory left her she was born anew without expectation

When her hope and her purpose died she lived only for now

So she staggered on

Questioning nothing

And forgot her own name and grew wings and flew into the sun