v. angel eyes

moonflowers hemorrhage on your left wrist
as your heart sways to the beat of a slow rock song
while you sipped tea that you intentionally
laced with arsenic

your tears burn like acid as they
touch your cheeks and your head is
spinning out of control as you
crash to the floor

your mother was an iconoclast and at fourteen,
she got herself pregnant by a stranger
she met at the backseat of a bus

she said she was making a statement
but no one listened to a
drunken dilettante

she was a classic poetic tragedy
and an old-fashioned catastrophe,
polaroid pretty, immortalized
only in your memory

her black converse high tops
were laced with anarchy badges
that glowed in the dark
because she was a punk rock princess
and boys genuflected in front of her
just to confess their secrets
but that was for her to know
and for you to find out

and she wore a crucifix
around her neck
even though she was
a teenage wreck

but that was for her to know
and for you to find out

.
.
.

fireflies spontaneously combust as you stare
at the ceiling with those angel eyes,
murmuring a last prayer before fading away
into a void where dreams come true