She gazed at the mirror and caressed her face.
But she couldn’t look for long and let out a grimace.
She could never really look at herself with no makeup on
Ever since what happened that fateful morn.
He had held her down and stripped her bare.
Left her with no dignity and shame to spare.
He left her with her wrists swollen and blood flowing down her thigh
He left her without an answer she was left wondering why
Why he had touched her…why he hadn’t left her alone
Why he only saw her as a dog did a bone
From that day on she never was the same
Her face was painted and she could never be tamed.
Years later she had a red jar and a cigarette bowl.
She gained her worth from swinging around a pole.
She gazed at the mirror after she was done.
She could never really look at herself with no makeup on.
The card on the table reminded her of one of her first slays.
He had a wicked smile and money for days.
He would take her shopping and shower her with gifts.
But that was the only thing about him she really did miss.
On the inside he was perverse and unpolished
He reminded her of a stunning building she saw without the insides furnished.
Another kill came to mind as she glanced at her hand,
He was a well-to-do accountant with a wedding band.
He had 3 children and a beautiful wife,
But he could never really live without her in his life
“At least he never had to,” she whispered to herself
For she had taken a part of him and placed it on her shelf.
She grew a little despondent as she remembered her last slay
He was kind and honest so she let herself slip away
And that’s what made that kill particularly gory
And unlike for the others for this one she was truly sorry.
It wasn’t just him, she also left wounded
But at least he didn’t kill her, her death she precluded.
She remembered how she was with him; he made her feel free
If she had met him first what a different woman she would be
He always did try to make an honest woman out of her
But she was too set in her ways and she rejected his offer.
She stopped for a minute to mourn the person she became
Wondered if she could ever feel worth without playing the game
The shelf held her trophies, her jar of hearts
From all of the men who she’d put together and then ripped apart
As she proceeded out, something held her back
She saw her chest in the mirror and realized that her last had left a mark
She wiped off her makeup and opened the jar
She took a heart out and jumped in her car
She decided she would take the heart to the last slay
Because she realized he had also taken hers away.
Inspired by the song Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri.
Written in my final year of high school.