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  Feb 2015 Wilma Buschgens
I will dye my beloved brown hair blonde for you
Stand at the mirror -
I pour down the peroxide.
Knives grate my eyes and yet
they've never felt this alive
With my wild smile and
yellow hair. No longer a cub,
but a Lioness.

I will slit my wrists in the bath for you
In any case
these full veins will only take up space.
Fumes of pink against the ceramic varnish
I smile at the sight of your blood leaving me
and this bath has never felt so like home.

— The End —