Sweet fae doll,
dressed up in all soft perfume and glitter
to make you look alive.
Like a dragonfly on a downwards spiral,
or a sheen of blood on a white marble floor,
the glitter in the corners of your eyes shines.

I wear sweet absinthe on my lips
and dark rings under my eyes
and I wonder- do you ever look like me too?
Do you ever cry at night?
Is your radiance merely an illusion
to be robbed by the moon?

Do you not exist until someone sees you,
little quantum illusion?
I wish, I wish, I wish
my face would crystallize and shine
and the resonance deep within
would be forgotten under shadows.

To get at the marrow,
crack open the bones.
The screams of the conquered
"We want to go home."
Flying like birds
let out of the cage
right into monstrous
black jaws of rage.
Insatiable hunger
for an insatiable mind
maybe next time
they will be more kind.
Not to provoke
the slumbering beast,
not to awaken
the unholy feast.

Your skin
paper thin
peels away
when I touch
like a brush
there is sludge
pooled underneath
the residue
of thinking through
the theories
of deities
and karma
arising
from leaving me
alone in peace
to slowly rot
eyes turned inwards
collapsing
egg
rosebud
samsara
beats
like a drum
the unending thrum
of human hearts
and the earth
resonating
repeating
growing restless.

Every time you look at me
I feel a little less real.
No matter how I try
I cannot stop you from
dismantling me, pulling me apart
piece by delicate piece.

I prayed to the old gods
and they promised me that when I die,
I will be born again as a raven
so I can scavenge the pieces back,
because it only takes a day to harm
but it takes multiple lifetimes to heal.

When you look at me
I feel the winds of the rapture lifting me up
Oh, I am a sinner,
rabid, manic, unholy
but I will fall on my knees for you.
I have boiled my wings
and produced sweet nectar for us to share
in anointing ourselves.
We shimmer like mermaids
dancing in parallel through the sky.
There is a reason
why sirens are women
and the earth is a mother,
not the kind who is cold and vain
but the kind who provides.
The kind who gives us teeth
to make a last stand when
backed into a corner by howling voices of hate,
and teeth to devour each other
before time devours us all.

Nature follows Witches' laws
you get what you give
three times over.

Leaping from shadow to shadow
on malformed legs
with an inhuman gait,
you leave us to feast on the scraps from your table
with an appetizer of rat poison.

One day shimmering hands will drag you under the sea
and you will understand why we have canine teeth.
We are predators. We are built to feast.
Stalking and pouncing with cat's paws
incapacitating with snake's fangs
crushing through bone with dog's jaws.

Can you feel it?
Can you feel the curse?
Can you feel the abomination you created?
Here is where god abandons you,
takes one look at the beast and leaves you to fight it alone.
All the holy light in the world
could not expunge this terror
like all the prayer in the world
fails to protect the vulnerable from cruelty.

Over
and over
and over.

Lay me down
until the snow covers my skin
like a blanket.
Watch as crocuses and violets sprout
from my still beating heart.
Pick them, and see
the patterns my blood makes in the snow.
Oh how I would love to be a feast for wolves,
for them to sing with my voice
next time the full moon rises.