The wax dripped down and encased the top of her fingernail,
Creating a nice angelic wax mold,
And while planning her escape she carefully peeled this off
And left it on the nightstand to be found.

So much for a hidden identity, she smirked to herself.
She wanted to be exposed, maybe.
She relished the chase, the chaos, the stealthy
Slipping out the sliding glass door
Adrenaline and joyous fear.

Her favorite game. What is life anyway?
She drank the last of the stale scotch from last night,
pulled from her scalp a couple stray hairs,
And left those behind too.