Sleeper in The Valley

It’s a pink girl’s room, without the pink girl
An empty bed, softly tumbled
Pink comforter turned down in anticipation
Shelf above with pink-skinned dolls
One missing, in pieces on the floor
Subjected to the work of pink-handled scissors

A blood-red light filters through lace curtains
Onto a rocking chair and a basket of wool
Pink crochet half-finished on the seat
Pink lipstick traces adorn a small mirror
The fading hopes of practiced kisses

On the pathetic vanity desk
A note lies written in red ink
Beside a few empty bottles
That once held pink pills
Now somewhere diffused in the
Cooling blood
Of a once pink girl turned blue