2 o’clock AM, Murray Hill
Blood all over.
He finds her crouching on the cold bathroom floor
They are used to this.
"Our baby is gone."
Again.
9 o’clock AM, Washington Heights
Heading home to get some real sleep-
Away from loud music and smoke
Finally getting the chance to cover her body
And cherish it as her own
Not something worth mere cash or jewelry.
Mentally preparing for working at another party tonight.
Blue eyes staring back at her in the mirror,
She hears the sounds of laughter in the hallways,
Sounds that are foreign to her.
She raises her sleeve and stares at the fresh scars
Still trickling fresh blood.
She promises her self- no more.
But life seems to be going on too long to keep that promise.
4 o’clock PM, East Harlem
She sees him hanging around the playground,
He only comes to school once school is over
Sharing in his victim-hood
Sharing the powder that has ruined his life.
Though he doesn’t want to know that.
12 o’clock AM, Lower East Side
His hot breath in her face.
Coarse skin pressing onto her.
She feels the pressure.
And he leaves without a sound.
She has learned not to waste her energy screaming.