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.
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.
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.
Have you read Catcher yet?
The words inscribed say kill John Lennon;
take a gun and shoot the
in the back 4 times.
Have you got to the Genesis yet?
Read the stories which tell
us to murder our friends;
liberate them from the sin
of living under the same God
with a different name.
Have you heard Marx’s words yet?
Don’t you know they’re meant to
be dipped in red paint;
made from the blood of capitalists
and smeared on the walls to spell out,
‘all are equal
but some are more equal than others.’
Have you listened to Helter Skelter yet?
The lyrics have hidden messages,
whispers you must follow;
they say to go kill
a beautiful movie star
and leave her body bleeding.
Have you seen the constellations in the sky yet?
Some say you can read the words
of hate like a soliloquy;
telling us what destructive
deed to do next.
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
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.
I don’t hold grudges,
not now, not ever.
if someone shows me how little I mean to them;
I just stop caring.
They leave my mind
to even utter their name in the remote parts of my subconscious.
But it’s not real.
Its not sustainable
and one day very soon
the flood gates will open
and it will crush me.