At night (it is always the worst because
night is when the monsters come out & play),
she is the girl without the dragon tattoo; an
anonymous alice falling down the rabbit hole
and into a forest dark.

around her a war is stripping anon. alice bare &
bloody, all festering bones and soundless cries
and broken fingernails.

if she were to glance down at her reflection in the
gleam of her mud-coated shoe, maybe, just maybe,
she would notice in disdain that although this alice
has indeed been found,
she is still very lost –

thought the mad hatter who may or may not
be you.


a/n: this collection is dedicated/inspired/written/bled/drugged/&breathed for h. you know who you are.