She Got It

Stiletto clicks,
down the corridor.
Bloody eyes bulging,
through brick wall mortar.
For her,
it was never enough to be seen.
She needed pain in between
the fame and the greed.
A shame, really,
she never came to face reality.
And, with a face like her’s,
it was a centerfold tragedy.
“They never stop staring!” she balked,
but she never stopped sharing,
always had time for a talk.

After sidewalk chats,
she dodged sidewalk cracks.
Couldn’t handle the pressure,
thrills, and intensity.
Found her final pleasure
in a bottle of pills
and a handle of whiskey.

And they never stopped staring.
Even when the shine in her eyes lied barren;
an arid monument
to better times,
when she thought she wanted all of it.
Well,
she got it.

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