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Nov 2017
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
Georgia Marginson-Swart
Written by
Georgia Marginson-Swart  22/F/London
(22/F/London)   
278
   lex
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