Red death lurks
In her two yellow goodshoes

Then sharply turns the corner, to find
The glistening teeth of a kind smile
(She is not to trust)

-

The cathedral looms large and her bells toll
Filling the streets with stale mourning

The corpse blushes, wax-worthy in my casket;
Deadwood sprouts new leaves but
Petrified trees don’t breathe

-

Tears choke like anger,
The pale fingers on my neck draw blood
The grip loosens, the noose unfurls;
The dagger drops and I run faster

-

I soak my shoes in bleach
I wash my hands and face until I’m scrubbed
Red and raw again
Fresh skinned like a baby’s pure soul

-

The songs I sing waver
And my smiles lead to ruin