Her face is white with anger
crumpled linen convulsing
-volcanic
paper thin against scenery swelling
fat and green like a newborn’s fingers
grasping at flowers and the beginnings of everything,
the sweet low tones of a lullaby
bubbling in the rain.

arctic features linger in sadness
asking for nothing, yet...
minor mishap has bloomed into an open wound
stretched across her forehead-cat like, unapologetic
standing defiant despite deflation

Doctor says she has not slept in a year
drifting room to room, fire then ice
back and forth, swaying in a steel ship
lying in the middle of the shore

it has long been over

Burrowed in darkness waiting to gain wings
hair grows long
shedding dye and rotted lies
bracing for bells to sound,
footsteps ill with urgency

Stasis
already a relic rusting
grown girl kicking against the womb
teeth cracked and hissing through steam
hoping to perspire into nothingness