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