roadkill angel

hi here's a little thing i wrote (poem? story? idk) abt some characters of mine. hope u enjoy even just a little bit 

when he finds her, she's sprawled out on the lawn in front of his trailer,

the yellowed grass scratching her bare legs 

her shoes long gone

one sock missing

dirt staining the fabric of her clothes

she's a runaway, he thinks,

he knows it for sure, actually

one of those roadkill girls who runs away because of a fight with her parents 

because they wouldn't get her the car they wanted 

or because they found a bottle of liquor hidden under her bed

he pities her, 

she's gaunt and hollow looking 

her white clothes and long brown hair making her look like a ghost, subtly victorian

gothic and haunting

so he takes her inside

holding her frail body in his arms

and places her on the couch

so she can stare at the cracks in the ceiling when she wakes up 

(if she wakes up)

but it is when he does this that he notices the lashes on her back

purple and red and caked with dried blood

he had thought wrong

and there was more to this story than he initially thought

some of these bruises being man made 

it is late into the night and the girl still hasn't woken up,

lying motionless on the couch

he has put his one nice blanket over her

the one his grandma made however many years ago

and he has propped her head up with a pillow

cradling her delicate skull to keep it from falling apart

she's unnervingly still, he notices as he sits against the foot of the couch,

he doesn't know what he'll do with her if she doesn't wake up

leave her somewhere quiet - in the woods maybe

under the deck of the old shack by the lake

but no, that's not suitable

too many kids like to hang out there to smoke and drink 

if they found her there who knows what they'd do

as he thinks about these things he feels her stir, which startles him,

whipping his head 'round to look at her

but she hasn't woken up yet, only turned over on her side

a faint frown present on her pale features

he wonders if she's dreaming

as she clenches and unclenches her fists

her chest rises and falls slowly,

little tiny shallow breaths going in and out of heaving lungs

like a bird that has flown into a window

stunned, even in sleep

she looks like an angel, he thinks,

which is odd, because she's covered in dirt and is missing her wings

no halo to be found

she probably lost it along with her shoes 

somewhere along the hot asphalt of the highway

dancing across the pavement markings

hoping that some trucker will pick her up

so that maybe she could go far enough, fast enough 

to reach heaven again