Prostitute
I once knew a little girl
Or maybe she was a young woman
With a pornographic smile
And a diamond in the corner of her eye
She used to tell me stories
Of late nights and sad parties
And the men that she kept
Always had another secret at home
She flirted with danger
Wasn’t paid in cash or kindness
The pavement welcomed her presence
With a sympathetic sigh
I asked her why she did it
She said she liked to feel wanted
But when the credits rolled she felt empty
Tears in the taxi on the way home
I watched her sit there softly sculpting
A glass heart incapable of hurting
I don’t think she realized the soul she was eroding
Belonged to a little girl left on her own.