Hands running through her hair
Clothes strewn across the floor
Crouched against the holed wall
Wild eyes trained on the door
Thoughts, miles up the twisted road
Soul, lost in this mess just made
Cowering in the presence of what she was
Debts just past, scary and unpaid.
Someone will open the door
Punish her for what moments ago
Some stranger did,
Monster wore her face though.
They can shout and damage
This long lost lonely soul
But impulsiveness has
no conscience or control
They will only hurt the good
Left after the monster goes
Push it till it’s twisted ugly too,
This: the monsters knows.
So he laughs aloud
As they hurt the wrong one
They have to do something,
So once more he’s won.