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Tiny Spirit

In the black mud
soaking in filth
bloody tares
in delicate membranes
one needle
two needle
three needle
slammed
muscled
absessed to a fault
alone in her special gutter
twitching, forgotten
looked down on
she lays still
letting the poison lift her away
tears squeezed out
behind clenched eyelids
she's down and walked over
passed by
spit at
but she's a spirit bright
and beautiful
just trapped in her fragile
broken storm tossed body
begging someone to lover her,
and set her free.

Author notes

For My Tiny Tina 10/5/08

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Comments

  • brokenknuckles
    March 27
    Edit | Reply
    this was beautiful Sister.


  • ellaelu
    October 13, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Sad and yet moving.. a very very good write. I love the small taste of hope at the end.