I have nightmares
of his hands on my skin
touching, scraping, taking.

fingers bruising my spine
blood red on my lips
like soured wine.

it's been six years
but he's still in my head
and oh, God, I want to forget.

she wears a halo
to hide her devil horns
and though her smile may be sweet
don't forget that her wings
are draped in razor thorns

sometimes I wonder
what would happen
if I meant what I said
and said what I mean
if I didn't hold my breath
or bite my tongue
swallow my songs and choke on my dreams