breakable girls and boys

she was a splash of sunshine,
her body looked silky,
but felt waxy,
her spit was the clue to remain shiny..
oh my poor martha..

martha held a gun,
if only she could,she would,
she resisted,but he persisted,
he cried out loud,
but in her heart she growled..
oh my poor martha..

if the day could not get any sunnier,
and if only i could remember,
martha was found stiff,
her spotted coat failed,
she was colder than the morning chill,
her eyeballs were eyeballing eachother,
oh my poor martha..

a crime of passion?
manslaughter?
a night of gallivanting that went wrong?
martha now rests in a toaster box,
flung over a cliff,
where a family of wild boars meet to feast..
oh my poor martha..