She’s alone, on a damp mattress,
In a dark room.
Can barely see, barely speak,
Barely feel.S
he lies there, limp and bruised,
In the shadows,
As shadows pile on top of her.
One by one,
Note by note,
Pound by pound.
She doesn’t notice.Not for hours,
Until she starts to shake,Starts to crack,
Starts to break.
The warmth fades,
And she’s naked.
The purple paint that lines her limbs,
Starts to burn like lashes.
Like fire and ice,
Like all the pain of all the years
Has found its way to her.
Then a prick.
A nothing, really, compared to the rest.
And she’s gone.Food for the shadows, once more.
Food for the insatiable, the lost, the damned
And the lonely.
A slave to the whims
Of greedy men.
Food for the grief
Of a heartbroken family.
As demons count coins in the darkness,
Laughing and grinning wickedly
In the corner of her eye.
Another shadow.
Another body.
Another prick.
Another lash,
And then she’s gone.Dumped and forgotten.
On to the next one…


3 thoughts on “Shadows – Becky Isles

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