February 15, 1934

Sometimes that which we have lost is all we have left.

You are strong.  Brave.  You fear nothing.  

(Except him, little girl.)

Echoes of a voice long forgotten

-- Whispers of an unremembered touch…

tHEy live in your soul

(What’s left of it, anyway)

:MB:

You are a clam at low tide

Forgotten?

Legless.  Armless.  VOICELESS.

You can scream, if you want.

(No one will hear you.)

The water, so clear blue

Recedes.

You reach for it with your 

invisible 

Legs

invisible

Arms

Your 

voice-that-is-not-a-voice.

(No one but him, little girl.)

:MB:

A lion prowling the soft leaves underfoot

Your claws click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.

You are strong and fierce

The King of the Jungle.

So why are you the one

In chains?

(Because you were born for them, sweet one.)

The poacher is right behind you

His steps are light (undetectable).

Is he the reason for your raised hairs?

--The butterflies in your stomach?

(He always was, my love.)

Inside that glowing golden body 

Is a bleeding heart

crying

pumping

pounding

Within that heart of a lion

Lies who you really are inside

It is your  h e a r t  o f  h e a r t s.

Child.

(They say children are the fare of the Gods.  He is your God.)

Your Child heart is 

screaming

wailing

bleeding.

(Bleeding for him, sweet child, bleeding for him.)

:MB:

Sometimes you are a 

Starfish,

Desperately clinging

(for your life)

Next, you are a 

Tyrannosaurus Rex

Maiming all who cross your path

(you mean him, don’t you?)

Hallucinations, maybe.

Or something far more sinister?

Either way, it doesn’t matter what you are there.

What matters is here.  This day.  This very day.

(With chains around your wrists and madness in your eyes.)

:MB:

Sometimes, he grabs you hard.  He drags  you

Kicking and Screaming.

The room is small and dank.

 

(Oh God, you can feel it in your bones.)

White porcelain, dirty and 

C r a c k e d.

(Just like you, you think.  Just like you.)

Stained, spotted mercury-covered 

Glass.

Your first thought is 

-- death.

That sweet, sweet oblivion. 

Shards of sharpness, 

Pressing into veins, oh so soft and fluid.

Skin breaking…. And ohhh you can just imagine it.  The 

Release.

The voiding of everything you have ever

 h a t e d.

(Except him, sweet girl, don’t forget about him.)

He is the only thing that stops you from breaking that final straw.                                                                                

Oh, the irony.

You laugh a crazy

Wild

L a u g h.

And suddenly, you feel good.

So so 

G o o d.

:MB:

You crawl on your hands and knees.

(Do you know any other way?)

That shiny mirror beckons you with 

Promises of mint toothpaste and pretty red hair.

Who’s hair?  Yours is blonde.  So is his.

Standing on those 

Shaky 

legs of yours

You stare at her

The one behind the 

G l a s s.

(Don’t be scared, little girl, it’s only me.)

Cerulean 

Flaxen

Ash

You.

Plum

Azure

Onyx

Gifts from Him 

That mar your pretty face

(Don’t cry, sweet, it means he loves you.)

Unbidden, sHARDs of gemstone sluice down granite cheeks.

Is that you, is that really you?  

(shake your head, girl.  deny.  deny.)

 

You watch the pallid face in the mirror as it shakes back and forth.

(deny.  deny.)

You tell yourself you believe it.

(But deep in your  h e a r t  o f  h e a r t s, you know that that girl is you.)

:MB:

‘Hello, love’

His voice is sugary sweet.

You can feel the syrup

D r I p  d r I p  d r I p p I n g

-- all over you

You are coated in his

Sickly slime

&&& you have never-ever felt more

disgusting

in 

your

life.

(Don’t speak too soon, darling, for your real life has just begun.)

You want to say something

Sharp

Cutting

Acerbic

Something that makes him 

HURT

Just as much as you do.

You want him to feel the

 PAIN 

Of never being able to leave this (ungilded) cage

You want him to 

DIE.

(How silly you are, honey sweet.  He would never leave you.)

And that is just what you are

So

So

So

afraid of.

:MB:

It’s funny 

(in a morbid sort of way)

how every time that door slams, 

you feel something.

First it was

P a n I c

Then

F e a r

Then

G r I e f

Then

That unbreakable sort of  S a d n e s s  that nothing can heal.

(Except him, little girl, except him).

Now though, you can’t help but feel something else.

(at least you think it’s something else. maybe you’ve been feeling it all along?)

Instead of cringing into that

Dusty wall

When that (chipped-paint) door 

C

R

E

A

K

S

Open, 

You sit with crossed legs and a heavy heart 

(bronze in your chest)

but

some part of you

-- which one you might never know "

is

eager

&&& excited

maybe just a little

-- happy?

(shake your head, girl.  deny.  deny.)

But looking in that 

C r a c k e d

Mercury-coated

Glass,

you just can’t deny the way

your heart  j u m p s

your spine tingles

Maybe you do like (love?) him, just the way he says you do.

Was he right all along?

(Of course he was, baby girl.  Of course he was.)

:MB:

Touches of such a fierce intensity, that you cannot breathe.

They fill you 

Up

So full, that you will 

never 

eat 

again

(That’s what they all say, beauty.)

Incandescence and permafrost.

They surround you.

Sometimes, you think you hate him (them?).  

You hate

Those viridian eyes

That snow-coloured hair.

(just as pale and broken as you.  don’t deny it, love.)

He’s vicious

As wild and uncontained as 

-- Animals "  and  " Savages --.

This you know.  

(you more than anyone)

That doesn’t change the fact that his touch brings

a 

Spark?

Of something you can’t explain.

Fear

Hate

L

O

V

E

(Oh sweet, you’ve finally seen the light.  He loves you.  So bad, darling, so bad.)

:MB:

You are a ballerina.

Beautiful and light, you

pirouette

jete

arabesque

You are so lovely; they are all cowed in your presence

(like an angel, I am told)

You jump 

So

H

I

G

H

With perfectly pointed toes, and who is waiting at the other end?

Him.

:MB:

Some days, 

You sit in your hole

(the place you have been exiled)

and you hate (him and it) with everything you

Have.

&&& Other days, that (chipped-paint) door

C

R

E

A

K

S

Open, 

And you have to suppress the 

s m I l e

that twists the corners

of your lips

(those soft, pink lips)

Because no matter how much you

H a t e

Him 

No matter how much you want him to 

D I e 

Each time he touches you with those 

Hands of fire

Evil seeps past your iron walls.

(it becomes you, sweet, you are the E V I L now)

&&& Strangely, none of it matters (none at all).

Because in the end, he is everything you have.

:MB:

(No one but him, little girl.  Remember that.)

Author's Note

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.