she was moonless holding darkness for a frame with silhouettes too expensive to maintain and she’d succumbed to her dusky timeline, waking to life each sunset, on known murky streets. magenta lips beneath her veil, cloaking her physique, hiding the form she forever felt was devoid of any substance. and this, this was right before her demons purged any sense of dignity in her, to her death. every twilight her will was murdered in the hands of lewd elite men with enough pocket change for her rates. numb, winter lingered, breaking her water, birthing sorrow. without solace in the pitch black of her abyss. tears, her worst fears tarried—she’d perish without finding the sun and this consumed her entirety.
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