Jewels pile up
in the corners of my room,
and my crown looks naked
with one emerald left
in a too big cavity.

I dance in shadows
and feel my liver
disintegrate as hard cider
buries itself in my genes
and talks to me
in my nightmares.

There are skeletons
shimmying up the trellis to my window,
spiders beneath my blankets
and dead mice in the cellar.

You used to lull me
towards a surrender
as you breathed quietly
into the landscape,
but the landscape is torn up,
the gravel blights our air,
and your skinned knees smell of blood
in the dark sick of my prayers.

Do not leave to fate
what you can do yourself,
but destiny likes me
these past few months,
and being what I am
seems to cause problems.

Who knows what goes next,
what stepping stone breaks,
what knot tied loosens,
what dreams surrender to drug addiction
and fancy sports cars
and designer clothes.

I've been hoping
to become someone
in the months between past and future,
but no one’s picking up
their phone,
and who would have thought
I could get away with my own non-murder?

They hope things get better,
I don’t think it works that way.

I’ve given up
on keeping my secret safe,
and trying to stop my hair
from frizzing.

And there’s too much smog
to see the stars here anyway.