the bus stop.
he breaks dawn after prom night
she kicked and she screamed;
he left her out to bleed daylight.
i'm stuck with dawn's sun.
i drag my black boots, and drag harder with time;
i've tedium to tend, broken ladders to climb.
i toil hard to keep white men in bank accounts dead;
no need for the bodies, only the heads.
i dance everyday while their sons pull the strings
until dawn's rape shower ends and the dusk only stings.
the bus stopped.
only i'm nowhere near it
my bones, how they know it!
though i can't see or hear it...
only figure and fear it.
wrong again, jumped the gun
it's disgustingly sweet
it's like wedding cake fondant.
could this thrill be afforded by a me less despondent?