We have defiled her
She screams silently while we claim we have refined her

She grew up inside roses,
a single dress with footsteps of needle sets.
Her thighs now smothered by ropes of skirts, each embedding it's mark, these are the scars she must bear.
Her parents are skeletons, pendulous in coat hangers, dressed in old leathers with jaws fractured.

have we refined her as we claim?
Silently she screams
We have defiled her!

I have become very uninterested
in a life without you.

My words crawl
away into the shadows
cowering under the
echoed silence, the fear
of pasts claws.

It's a quiet place here in
the chasms of the soul,
where forlorn murmurs
of wisdom, breach the
signature of mystery.

Feeding the lands of
my mind, seeking oceans
hold, I cannot listen to
the voice of reason.

I follow you into the
woods and dancing in the
light of our dying fires
*I rise, I rise, I rise.