Her heart was a stone
and still
it never sank beneath
the waves she was drowning in
She felt cold and alone
And she couldn’t find her throne
She smelled peppermint and tasted blood
Still all she heard was the click
Of her heals on the hard pavement
Beneath her
She was Carmon
The contra queen of California
Living life in the clouds
Falling down with the rain
To the ground
Hitting harder than
Than all the no-names
Who fill the void in her chest
With meaningless kisses
She was Carmon
The contra queen at 17
Walking the streets
So mean
Without a glimmer of regret