Enchantress
How can I tell which parts of you are real?
How will failure feel to me?
In what demeanor will the reflection gleam?
Escape the trellis
Vine to vine
Thorny path
Wrist to palm
Bare skin bludgeoned into tiny scars
And then there’s the matter of the ground…
We’ve never got along too well…
Wafers upon the tongue
Black Ideas
During a healing mass
Scarred and frayed
Toothpick child
It must be difficult
Living like an only child
Broken by the perspiration
Spent to covet him
The blood of yours you’ve never met
It was long before you came forth
Yet their love for him
Seems to fill their love for you
With remorse
Ruing
The child saved
Into the forest
With door sealed
Lights away
A beautiful princess you’ll be
Reign upon the land and trees
The creatures, the fleas
With the doting love
The mirror sees
But with neglect
A world of sympathy
Can take the feet only so distant
Before the cricks bend
And the soles benign no more
A temper mental summit calls
From ridges of despair
A transforming tear is spun
Bearing down
Shivering
And so it begins again…
The draft comes hither
It’s autumn no longer
Winter’s pool grows strong
As scarcity depletes refuge from sleep
Returning to the family that damns your seams
The years of unraveling
Have maimed the clay
Burn the halo
Disinherited since the earliest day
Into the forest
With door ajar
Skyline gray
A beautiful Queen you’ve matured to be
Reigning over land in shadow
The creatures all fear your teeth
All life subservient
All dreams delegated to bloodied knee
Disembodied by the penance others serve
You’ve acclimated the way so many predicted your road would preen
…And with the doting hatred
Of the image
That the mirror sees
