Skin
Fingernails, moonlight, low-light
What’s the beast in the mirror I see?
It stares at me, it’s features moaning a sad soliloquy
I find it’s eyes, green, green, the colour of envy
Envy. Envy.
I find myself stretching skin.
Skin, it’s anthropomorphism deeply disturbs me
Why can’t I take it off
Peel it off, rip it off, burn it off, cut it off
Snip, snip
The more I stare the more it crumbles, it crumbles
I paint it’s mask with lacquer but the same pair of green eyes stare at me
What is that, who is that beast
The low-light consoles me but still I see it for what is
Me

There's a girl name, Augusta,

Like the month where the branches are stripped from their leaves but turn an evergreen somewhere else,

There's a girl named, Augusta,

Who wears her heart on her long sleeves and weeps the tears no one should weep,

There's a girl named, Augusta

Who breathes blossoms but her hair is frosted in ice,

There's a girl named Augusta,

She shows the joy of the turquoise seas but feels the wind of the grey sky.

There's a girl named Augusta

And I wish for her to find someone who will thaw the winter that grows in her heart.

cracked teeth, yellowed marrow,
a canary screams out in the mines,
she’s singing my song,
“have it be the last,
have it be the last time.”
what last time?
a bullet pokes a hole through the air,
pokes a hole through her feathers,
her fair breast,
a lassoed string hooks under her beak,
cracked, reddened marrow. - turns her face Rorschach-like,
a deformed beauty
the sight is bleak,
privileged with anomalies
her wounds, twitch,
flesh riddled with breathing cavities,
a corpse bloodily *****,
she screams again,
sounds like bell chimes
a frescoed casket,
lines of paint aligned with the lines of her veins,
a mourner’s veil dances,
entrapped in the crooked wind,
not a sound,
not a sigh,
not a song,
just the sound of-
bleeding heartstrings.