and I’m staring rather than sleeping,
risking madness as I risk assess,
again and again,
how dangerous it is,
to be your little doll.
Dropping your name in every dark boulevard,
I walk home,
the moon can sense you’ve staked your claim on me,
and hides behind the clouds,
crowding all the stars around her breast,
leaving me with nothing but a dark night,
and a few brave but stupid rats,
trying to impress me,
fighting for scraps of the attention
that they know is no longer mine to give,
because when a boy is bad,
he owns the whole town,
and every inch of the girl he calls his own.
Your reputation wrapped around me,
like a coat that commands loyalty,
based on bribery and fear.
I sleep in your sinful sanctuary,
the sadder but wiser girl,
searching the skies for the helicopters that hunt you,
lulled to sleep by a lullaby of late night gun shots.