‪*We fall down the rabbit hole and find Alice, with her empty prescription bottle and a shot glass, the white-eared waistcoat timekeeper shakes in the corner and screams ‘we’re late’ ‬
‪Alice is dead Alice is dead Alice is dead

I take all the wolf from my smile,
spin her back into sheep
let flowers grow from the cotton of her body
and revel in the softness of snarl
I have been killing chickens in my sleep,
sneaking out and slashing tyres
there is a breadcrumb trail of bones
leading to my closet, and i won't open it
i'm not brave enough for the mirror my monsters are,
i can still taste the marrow on my tongue
but i promise i've been brushing my teeth
drinking rose water and smiling
trying to sand off all my edges
forget the taste of anger and violence
and its hard when i've got foxgloves for kisses
all poison to taste, but they're pretty,
i tried stepping softly and felt the slip-shape
of prey back to predator, relearnt the padfoot
felt the great black dog inside me stir
had to rummage under the bed for the shotgun
put my cheek to it until she stopped her howling
i cried down the barrel for hours,
tied lace around my wrists and become jailor to my heart
**** her with kindness, but i couldn't, not quite,
all soft touch and lilted tongue i lull her back
to those creaking bars of my ribcage
peg her to my spine and place the ****** carcass
of the last boy we bit at beside her
grow sunflowers in my room and black out the curtains
we can stay here until she learns peace
learns to cry over his body like i did,
forgets blood and hate and their taste
we will learn tenderness in a dark room
howl at an empty sky until the stars take pity on us,
two-step to earth and bring the light back
open the closet, spin skeletons back to cloth,
the slate-grey dust of us has grown flowers,
rage trapped in pink-ribbon dreamcatcher wishes
her lips don't lift from her teeth anymore
and i can sleep with door unlocked
i can sleep with the closet open

If your poetry *****, get drunk.
keep drinking until you manage to ***** up something that bleeds with your blood
something that shakes with your breath,
something pitiful and cold on your bedsheets
drink some more and watch it writhe before you,
shatter the glass in your hand and hear it scream for you,
curse and die for you,
drink until you feel better, drink until you sleep,
drink until you feel hollow enough to swallow the weeping creature,
put down all the bottles, and the pens, and the sadness,
you'll try again tomorrow.

Sometimes I get drunk and remember the sound of his laughter
Remember the sound of my voice saying no
And his soft chuckle, like my safety wasn’t important
Like I wasn’t 14 and scared
Sometimes I get drunk and remember pushing him off me
Remember him climbing on me again
Holding me down
Sometimes I remember the feel of him inside me
Hurting
No alcohol necessary, the pain just lingers
Lingers like his laugh does when I close my eyes
Lingers like the secrets trapped in my throat
I still haven’t told my mother how he hurt me
Still haven’t admitted to myself that I’m still afraid
Sometimes I get drunk just to get aloof enough to touch another person
I put all the bottles away
And I still hear the laughter