who knows?
Too small,
Easily nervous
Keeps a knife
In her back pocket
For who knows what?
Who knows.
Spitting blood
In the background
She breaks knuckles
Against doors
Feels the splinters
In her bones
This itchy, scratching
Restlessness
Foot twitches,
Gaze wanders
She bites her tongue
Clean off.
For what?
Who knows for what.
There's a gun
Between her legs,
She loads it,
Cocks it and pulls it
Against your pretty face
Who knows for what.
Tongue tastes like
Iron and salt.
So sharp,
Like those thoughts.
Yeah she keeps
Her head down,
For what?
Who knows.
I don't.