Sunken eyes and drunken lies,
Her hair is thin with bonding ties,
The moans and groans of homeless sluts,
A crime so weak her chest case shuts,

Hide her heart behind cases of wine,
She shuts her eyes and churns through times,
When this city honoured alarm clock signs.

This party’s loud and hurts my ears,
Whilst guests discuss my greatest fears,
And through the crowd I see her skull,
Encased in gin and scent of sin,
Blurred with rum and crystal null.

She sits alone as lost souls whine,
Her rancid thoughts not only rhyme,
But reap and cast a doubt of hope,
Across the room to faux-fur coats.

She takes her blade and holds it high,
Digs it deep, counts back from five,
She slits her throat and spills her guts,
Amongst the trash and shameless tuts.