Her skin shone a harsh jaundice from the yellow light,
The dirty mirror leering back at her.
Shadows dance around the flickering bulb,
Caressing her like the pious attentions of
Amorous depravity.

Slowly she wipes her eyes with a
Cleaning cloth, smearing the cheap blue
Oily shadow across her cheeks.
Tangy - the taste of the crimson
Number 7 hiding pallid and cracked lips.

The musty smell of damp permeates the air.
A fly drones inexorably wandering, aimless.
How many today? Six? Seven?
The chemicals in her brain made it hard to remember.
What else were they for?

Grotesque mutations of mundane objects,
A shower head, crusted in limescale, twists morbidly;
Corpulent and discoloured.
Her vision pulsating she cries silently,
Her body abused and dirty, her skin crawling.

Soon she would have to lie on her back again,
If she wanted to eat. To pay the bills.
She could smell them, their sweat on her.
Balking as she retreated into herself,
Her body open to the punishments of fake love.

She winces as the cloth touches the raised black
Mark. The only make-up not to come off.
Her mask removed she sees herself for the first time
In months, dreaming of getting away.
Of that final selfish sin she could never bring herself to.

She raises her arm, raw bruised flesh and muscle;
Blood flow steady, life running on, every pulse a
Curse to her.
A banging at the door, persistent and terrible,
Booming in her ears like the expletives issued in entreaty.

The jumbling of cosmetics around her arms-
The tools of her trade-
Clattering incessantly,
Her dignity held captive.
It is always cold when you walk the streets.



An eerie quiet befalls her as her
Glazed eyes fall on that silver
Shard of sharpened steel,
Mirror-like, winking at her merrily.
Slowly she fingers the blade-

A razor to save her.
A razor to end her.
A bead of red water tips her finger,
Plasma shivering in the cold air
Coagulating shamefully.

With a stroke down her forearm,
Gently trailing lines of ruby
To the bottom of the hand,
She sighs, laying the cutting edge
Down for good.

Her breath shudders slightly,
Surprised that it doesn’t hurt.
Roses pour from her veins and
She sinks to her knees,
A smile curling itself around her lips-

The first real smile for so many years.