She sat in the diner in her wool pinken dress
her pantyhose tied round her neck
and a violet's short stem behind her
Nothing but bliss she believed in its kiss
and a new day born from the ashes
If looks could kill well she probably still
believes in what the mirror says
and round round her neck the nylon stretched
as she looked in the mirror
Bashing her parents her teachers her pets
who had all got so far ‘tween her knees
She was tired of silence but no one could hear
when she talked her mouth chocked her with glass
Broken so young no need to get old
for breaking takes longer for some
who just aren’t as ready
who’s hands aren’t as steady
when they try to pick up the gun
all cowards, we age in our blue jeans
She dressed herself up, and tied back her hair
with the longest elastic in air
and in her pinked woolen dress she stuck out her tongue
and hung it to fuck
all the people who found her
She is still living there, with a part in her hair
and one of her shoes on the floor
if you walk up beside her, don’t bother don’t mind her
The mirror wasn’t shattered, it held her and grabbed her
like the hand of a tv show debonaire
Once walked a moment, once walked a girl
along a cold bitter street
but if you happen to find her, her body still warm
forever you’ll wrap in her arms
and the chill once it finds you will keep you so perfect so young and so rare
And the promise of death, that promise is kept
forgetting forgetting the swoon
and the pain of her lovers who spurned her who covered
their mistakes with their suits and their fumes
They now hang beside her for youth is no minder of
whether you’re black or you’re blue
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