Nameless Woman No. 39

She walks these streets like a ghost. Her eyes are vacant and her voice flat and lifeless. She reminds me of someone I used to be. Everything about her appearance is provocative. From the bleached blonde hair to the tattoos mimicking lingerie up her legs. Physically she is a beauty. Yet the lifelessness makes her appearance somewhat comical, like a caricature of a person. She sells her body for drugs. Drugs to block out the mad pain of her existence. She is the walking wounded, the used up and exploited, betrayed so often, so viciously, that all she knows is to victimize herself again.

I feel a great sadness wash over me each time I pass her, but I am no good to her. I am not part of the humiliating transaction. I do not factor into her awareness. Driven by instinct and trauma to act out over and over again. What could I say?

You are real. I see you and your suffering. She’d never understand.

Sometimes she forgets to put underwear on and just walks looking for her next oppressor all the while mistaking her vulnerability as a kind of power. Beyond the level of consciousness swept up in a dark nightmare. Not knowing she’s asleep

15 thoughts on “Nameless Woman No. 39

    1. Thanks, I’ll pass on your kind words. Laura (her nickname) has dyslexia and worries about it with her writing but I assured her that I knew a wonderful published author who had dyslexia! Sound like anyone we know? lol

      1. I’m going to be cremated. I doubt my books will like that very much. 🙂

        It seems to me to be a great idea to have copies of your books buried with you — in airtight metal containers so that an archeological expedition 100,000 years from now can wonder what it means. 🙂

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