Violence was in her blood
Her father hit her mother every night
Her mother slashed her wrist once every week
The barbed wire around their house sagged with the weight of their yelling
And their screaming.
Then her mother died on the kitchen floor
And her father disappeared in to the night
So when it was her turn
She laid her cards carefully
The red skirt. The white shirt
The demure eyes
The long silky hair
Every man fell for it
The boys, the roving eyes,
The older men, the hungry, the tired, the jaded, the fired
Who could resist her?
She played them
Listened to them
Looked up to them
Fucked them, loved them, cooked for them
Then one day
When they least expected it she put a knife to their heart
And carved it out
They were found
In hotel rooms, in car parks, in lonely apartment blocks
The cops thought the killer was a man
Which girl could pin down a guy twice her size
Which girl could cut through muscle and bone
Which girl could take a bleeding heart and disappear
But she had inherited two things
Violence in her blood
And the knack for disappearing in to the night
So for all you know
She’s the girl
Who sits beside you in the train, in the bus, in the shared taxi
And in the second refrigerator she bought from her diwali bonus
Lie seven hearts
Mottled and cold, in seven zip lock bags.
