Singing to the Unicorn
But I'm not okay.
Won't you listen?
But I won't tell.
And empty hope,
I have already given up.
Anger is almost past.
All this bounty means nothing.
Lying in the graveyard,
Staining my white Victorian dress,
The dead told me.
Whispering to me from below ground.
They comfort me.
When I show you the stains,
You only yell at me,
You don't cry or look for the marks,
Not caring how calmly I presented those stains,
You say it's wine.
All I can do,
In my head is laugh,
Wanting to cry.
Pieces of glass from the broken window,
I have hidden under my pillow.
You hide those scars so well.
But not well enough that I do not see.
White and old,
Nothing new and pink.
You never seem to notice,
When you come into my room,
The eyes cut our of my dollies,
As they do when you don't notice them.
One of the dead children,
Laughs in the shadows.
He wants to come and play.
On my bedside table.
Lovely the thought, that the house would go up in flames.
The dead boy and I laugh,
As I place burning matches on my scarred ruptured flesh.
Six lash marks,
Two cuts each day.
You never know.
You'll never know.
...But you're hiding the fact that you really do.
It makes me cry,
My ancient tears,
As I run the glass across blistered flesh.
Covering my hands...
This time, have I gone too far?
I lay on my bed,
Bloodying the sheets,
My pillows coarse against my skin.
Silently I cry,
For all the times you ignored me,
For the denial you choose to smear away my pain...
Your tricks that never work.
I hold the shard in my trembling hand,
My dollies singing an unhappy song.
My black candles burning down to nothing,
So I put my finger into the flames,
To feel the tingle.
But I hear you coming up the stairs,
And hide the glass and blow out the candle,
Pulling my black blanket up to my chin...
Darkness so you can't see.
You look into my room and my dollies fall silent,
Scared of you.
And leave more silent than when you came.
The boy stifles a giggle,
So I suddenly feel,
He is my only company.
I shove my fist into my mouth to stop the scream,
Feeling blood flow into my mouth.
Almost fully alone,
Can't take it,
Can't breathe... And I almost love it.
So long I have been stumbling over pain,
Felling it every day.
It covers up the invisibility you coat me with...
The ongoing storm whispers at my window.
My head aches,
Pain seeping through my skull.
I feel so useless.
My only tribute is blood,
Fresh and sweet.
500 scars to live with,
The cry for me.
I have ribbons,
Scattered in my room,
They were once white as cream.
I wrapped them around my arms so I would bleed more.
You still don't notice that sweet smell.
I could cry for years and you wouldn't notice.
I'll hide under my bed,
Become a corpse like the boy,
Make my dollies scream,
Cut until there is nothing left of me.
How can I convince you what's left of me has been dying?
I promised you that my veins screamed,
And my body was weak.
I showed you the stains,
I flaunted my scars,
You didn't even cry.
So I scream,
At the top of my lungs,
Until my throat starts to bleed.
I will bleed,
Until I am nothing but a wraith.
Did you even really see me?
My heart isn't beating...
Breath won't come.