She, Loneliest of All Skanks…

eternally wailing…
for company
that will never come.

running to her side…
blinded back, bloodied
by curled bladed lips.

A giant finger shushed
what lies behind the sun…
never forever;

when burned flesh and nail
exposes the finger sham,
Misery—loneliest of all skanks—
uncurls trembling lips…
and continues wailing
for companions
she knows
her blade has bled dried.

A Wee Note: this poem is an open window, an undeserved second chance. Someone made a nasty blunder fed by self-loathing, I think… or malice. I hope she fixes things.

linked to Poets United, Poetry Pantry 265

“Frankly, Frida Didn’t Give a Damn Either”, by SunshineShelle“Frankly, Frida Didn’t Give a Damn Either”, by SunshineShelle