Never mind the consequences.
Her limbs
were cigarette thin,
afraid she would break
if I touched her.
Hair cut short,
just to the jaw line.
Straight, dirty blonde,
unwashed,
and probably crawling.
Under all that dirt,
and blood;
once perfect skin,
scarred too deep
and too often
for her age.
Watch her,
looking out the window,
as the world speeds by.
She doesn’t speak,
she doesn’t cry,
but there’s a look
in her blue eyes
that tells me,
she has seen Hell,
and knows the Devil,
personally.
This train we’re on
is taking her away
from what she has believed
was a short life,
and a painful death.
I have no words,
so, we both sit silent,
watching out the window,
as the world
speeds by.
HG – 2020
Great post 😁