Only hollow things drown

Oh no, I have died again.

My body is breaking down
inside the hallow ground
I can feel the soil,
clogging up my lungs
and turning my heart to gold.

I don’t know who killed me;
this time.
He was a coward, I imagine.
Who stabbed me in the back
then sent my mind below

Dying is a crime
i’m well versed in.
I fell down and down
and over and over.

I hadn’t yet chose which way to die
not like before.

I found a bottle filled
like a rattle toy,
I had as a child
it emptied in minutes,

Then He revived me and
like Cain I killed him.

My hands now moving,
my blood is boiling,
my fingers print clawing up,

wasting a life.

Our synapses are hopeful,
pulling me into the air.
I rose up,
saw the trees
covered in blood
And walked away.

Don’t you worry, I will die again.
But that time better
More beautiful and
romantic.
Fall into the water and hopefully
the lonely moon won’t bring me back

again.

Burn it down

Someone once cried into the dying night.

For candles and wet witches to light
or wait for the wildfires to catch
and save their life

or kill them first.
They would burn in a white fire,
like that of a broken girl’s eyes
waiting for her heart
to be lit up like a cigarette.

Wishes and dreams betrayed them,
the fire took over

but somewhere out in the lost forest
someone else cried out,
over her stolen innocence
and forgotten life,

so, the dying night
became day instead.

Black and White Roses

You spend all your days
writing your stolen stoic siliques
on your throne made from white roses;

which should be mine.

Dream you dreams of a better world,
where the fire in the core
of your broken world,
dies out, yet we’re still alive.

The earth is at your feet,
following your stupid rules
of hope and good.
Where altruism follows through
and evil was lost and gone.

I forgot a long time ago,
I was the Grimm antagonist.

The master deceiver,
the treacherous villain.
I’m the evil witch,
who breaks the worlds hearts
with her whore magic,
concocted from dead flowers
and broken desires.

Bleeding Through

Bury me in ash
while you cut my throat,
water the roses with my blood
and fertilise the sunflowers with my bones.

Dry me out until the skin is gone
and my heart has turned to stone.
The rip it out and eat it
while I lie down on my own.

Go far away
swim into the sea.
With my heart in your hand
and my blood in your mouth.

Come back one day
and raise me from hell.
I shall sit up from my shallow grave
a shadow of a girl.

Lost in state on dead.

Wildflower

Baby I’m a wildflower who grew in your garden,
among the orchards and the snowdrops from the winter.
I was your lucky little weed.

A daisy whose petals you could pluck at
to figure out who you loved.
Dreamt with me tangled up in your golden grown.
Kept me on a chain, wrapped around your wrist.

Or maybe I was a dandelion,
you blew out into the wind
longing for something else.

But you wasted your wishes on a dream,
lost your breath on an unwanted thing.

Until I was gone

Glitter Stained Teeth

Black leather jacket, red bleeding lips.
They take her down to the translucent glass town;
enchant her hollow mind with hollow words
that make her follow their every order.

Chipped nail polish, vodka spiked water.
She grew up on hope of princesses and kings; saving the damsel from her heart-breaking distress
of anger filled nights, forced on bedsprings.

Cracked blue diamonds, lying candy hearts.
They make her promises of a better life;
instead of the cycle of sadness she’s in
like a broken merry go round.

Glitter filled guns, tainted sunshine.
She’s given up on the dreams she had as a child;
she takes what she needs to get by, to feel alive
and keep the hole in her heart hidden.