No Tears Formula

Body owned by fated. Embraced by the last words of a mother whose hollowed out veins contain street medicine. Holding close the sound of stolen sex. Hustlers pawn small lives for big gold chains.

A face the color of blank canvas, wingless white flight. Gritty reminders left in hieroglyphic graffiti, civilization uncivilized. Asexually

nude, alabaster shoulders, wearing the streets like a black Mink stole.

Day dreaming of 5th avenue standing in Hell's kitchen. Baking chocolate chip wish cookies. Mining one nights treasure, fooling herself not her stomach. Malnutrition rubs against backbone.

Yesterday leaves an aftertaste. Rapid eye movement keeps the night

at arms length. Drinking virgin Martinis made of tears and Vermouth. A smile concealed under 1 inch of bulletproof skin. Teflon coated girl

raised on blasphemous neon lights.

Triple X, hard core, 100 proof life......