they look like ravens,
their sharp, curved beaks,
piercing gazes with hidden eyes
that lie behind the mask

they smell faintly of dried flowers,
but the lingering scent of death
that surrounds them completely
can never be rid of

i want to fight,
i want to resist,
i want to hurt,
because i trust you

i want to feel your hand
as it closes tightly
around my wrists in warning,
because i trust you

i want to feel small
and surrounded
by you completely,
because i trust you

i want to struggle to breathe
while your hand is on my neck,
the good kind of struggle,
because i trust you

i want the ache to last for days,
a reminder of how good you felt,
i want to be hurt and loved
**because i trust you

i want you to worship me
until you can’t breathe without saying my name

i want you to beg for me
to scream for me

i want to you to be completely
**d e s t r o y e d

the first time i kissed you,
you tasted of salt and winter.
cold, and familiar.
and gone by the time i opened my eyes.

the last time i kissed you,
you tasted of smoke and summer.
burnt, and aching.
we should have listened when they said nothing lasts forever.

you close your eyes and
wrap your arms around yourself,
trying to make yourself as small as possible

you turn off the lights
and hide under the blankets
and suddenly you're seven years old again

hiding under the bed,
hands clamped over your sister's ears,
trying to be strong for the both of you

even though you were seven and
she was only four and
you forfeited your childhood

in the hopes that your baby sister,
the only thing that matters to you,
could grow up happy

you squeeze your eyes shut and
will yourself not to cry,
to stay strong

because she is not worth your tears
and you whisper 'i am strong'
to yourself over and over again

but it doesn't help,
nothing helps anymore,
except for counting

every day you wake up and
add one more tally to your notebook;
a scorecard of how long you've survived

it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth
every time you look at it,
a reminder of your weakness

you take it out sometimes
on nights like this,
to remind yourself that you are good

but then you get an ache in your chest
and your eyes glance over to the bottom drawer
where, hidden away in the back corner, are your blades

and your fingers twitch over your wrist,
like a reflex, and you want to feel the burn once more
you just want to feel again

you want to feel the blade pierce your skin
and watch the blood drip down your arm,
pooling on the bed, staining it

a wave of embarrassment washes over you,
because you're itching to hurt yourself,
and you promised you wouldn't do it again

you try to steady your breath
when she raises her voice again
but it doesn't work

you hear her coming towards your room
and hold your breath
and stay as still as possible

you pretend to be asleep
and take even breaths
and maybe she won’t hurt you

for witches with brimstone on their breath, ashes in their hair, and fire in their veins


for faeries with daisy crowns atop their heads, broken sea shells across their necks, and crumbling skulls in their hands


for sirens with sweetness laced with poison in their voices, melancholy hidden in their eyes, and death in their hearts

the songs will remember you
as the ****** huntress
what the songs forget is that you were so much more

protector of young girls with their heads in the clouds
and hope in their eyes,
daughter of wolves and thunder

you were stripped bare and
the only thing that marked you
as important, was the name of your father

the only thing that they remembered
was the state of your maidenhood
no one warned you how their eyes would linger

and darken in lust,
untouchable, forbidden fruit
because that’s all they thought you were worth

you were three years old
when you refused to be reduced
to a state of being

you were three years old
when you refused to let
any man take what was yours

you were three years old
when you decided
you were to rule the mountains

you proved them wrong