Saturday, October 10, 2009

Pigtails

Every little girl waits in line for the white utility van.
Living day after day hoping one day the door will slide open.
Ragged to face, head on the metal floor.
Zip ties and strip mall fantasies speeding by,
twitching of the eye as the lights dance past like a parasol's twirl.

And I shall keep you. Your new name is Anna. I am a software engineer, you are home schooled.
Your mother died three years ago, and we are very close.

He said, sipping monochromatic tea out of a shot glass behind a white Pickett fence.
Nightfall brings safety pinned clothing to ensure their placement, though it never stops your pants from sliding to your ankles.
In a pink bed, with a floral pattern.
Clasped hand over screaming young mouths.

She said "I'll let you borrow my soul"
And greedily he took it,
allowing it to fall into the abyss of his dark side.
Eating the candy leading to the guillotine.

Your neck was the perfect fit.
Too bad the blade is so damn dull.