She's All For It

Her name never mattered.
She wanders vacant streets for comfort
Looking longingly at the warm lights of stars
Hearing the busy rumble of a city living around her
But inside: Dark and quiet.

Her face never mattered.
Clothing oversized and impractical, but cheap.
Hair tangled and frayed
If she looked decent he'd be happy.
If she wore make up he might smile.

Her skin never mattered.
A woman's flesh; torn, tattered.
Tear stained cheeks, unheard pleas,
Blue-black skin under blue-black jeans,
She wonders why he never listened.

She never mattered.
Awake at late hours,
Listening wearily for those footsteps stomping,
The slam of the front door: a death setence.
She's all for it.