It was in wander
for not lost was she.
It was in wonder
for without sin
she walked towards
the tree bearing
sweet fruit
enticing her forward
lust sent a lumber puncture
through her spine
upwards it shot to the
brain; cerebral forms
into a beating heart.
It excited her there was
such freedom found
in such innocence.
Pulsating quivers she waited
Adam to her Eve
daisy chains falling from her neck
framing a prepubescent chest
hooks temperately fastening
white knotted cotton hand sewn dress
virginal white
no womanhood in sight
Annabelle’s life, a melody of
melancholic cacophonic raspers
from asylums, former patients
of Briarcliff Manor
residing in her; only misery
innocent running’s from
grave dangers of
stark raving madness.
For, today
she wasn’t embroiled
as Arden’s pet
instead she was the little girl
so born to be before the woman
was stolen, bound by
a physicians sick
nightmarish re-enactments.
For, today
she was free
a starling, passionate
darling.
© Sia Jane
Briarcliff Manor is in Massachusetts and derelict.
In the 60's it was taken on by the church as an asylum.
In American Horror Show there is a season called Asylum.
In some cases the physician -Arden, would carry out experiments.
Raspers were the zombie like "monsters."
Often innocence were committed and in the poem I am either talking about the girl who was before the Asylum or a dream/nightmare state she was in during the experiments.
Which is real?
Her being free and innocent or her being committed?