Bored and Dying

She takes a drag of her Virginia Slim
pausing to inhale the fragrant poison
of carcinogens
slowly seeping into her veins
destroying her.
She smiles
and arches her back
at the boys passing by
her navel glinting in the lamplight.
They pay her no attention,
They have seen it all before
seen her tattoo barely peeking out
from the waistband of her low-rose pants
seen the bored "come hither" look
the look meaning there's nothing better to do
You know you wanna.
They pass her, ignoring the come ons
Sprinkling their nightly insults of whore
around her feet.
She calculates the perfect pout
and stamps out her Slim on the worn pavement
She digs through her purse
for a breath mint and fake ID
so she can buy some booze
and go to a house party of a faceless girl
and lure the football hero
into the seclusion of an upstairs bedroom
loudly enough for everyone to hear.
She will make a spectacle
clamoring down the stairs
in a sexual drunken daze.
they'll all talk
and everyone will know her Monday morning.

The red seduction of her lips part,
She smiles.