writing messages

they find her on a park
bench
in her underwear
a can of black spray
paint in her hand.
she's had a night
of writing on the sides
of cars
and signs.
nothing poetic or
interesting.
sometimes she'd write
in big looping
letters the word help.
or no.
or love.
there was a time when
they'd keep
her locked away,
poked and examined
by white coats, but not
these days.
she's not lizzie
borden or even Sylvia
plath, she's just alone
and afraid. a women
in her underwear with a can
of spray paint.