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Lucy Ryan Nov 2015
Lips like bloodlines,
Carmilla kisses her mirror
and calls herself dangerous

Naming myself for dead things,
for ruinous things;
fire,
the ash that drank Pompei,
the ivy that made your walls cave,

Was Lady Macbeth sweeping her hair in braids
to nest her crown?
Or Nefertiti painted gold to reclaim God?

I’m asking for the lavender girls
See, we do these things to be holy
to be myths in our skin

Tying feathers to our shoulders
and glitter to our tongues,
thinking
I can be gold if I want to
I can be thorn-tipped ugly

In pink fur, black lace, we kiss the toes
of Courtney Love and Venus in one breath

Cut back
to my blood-laced lips on the mirror
as though saying Narcissus is my idol
my skin placed above heaven
and I wish to love myself so much
I’d choke for it
Kyle  Aug 2020
Carmilla's Diary
Kyle Aug 2020
When my fangs are bored
I forge alliances and build armies
Then tick off other Aristocrats

A simple game really

The thing with war is
Being my captive is an honor
Why don't these men understand?

After satiating every inch of me
I ask them paint my throne in their blood
Yet they grovel by my feet begging for mercy

Playing hard to get I see
Poenari Castle -Winter, 1580
3 am
Still thirsty

— The End —