dollmould | sealed/lips | fistvoice / feverdream | a poem against vampires

for everything I ended

I left a shed skin behind


sometimes, for me,

being a woman means

screaming your guts out

into the frozen sky

to overcome the night


you stuffed my body with secrets

harassed my mouth with silence

my hair around a crucifix, around your fabrications

you live in the shadow of your halo

you can’t say a n y t h i n g

you rubbed fear into my skin


skin on parking lots

skin in cars

skin in strange beds

skin everywhere

I will say e v e r y t h i n g


losing pieces of myself

lesson learned, girl,

retracing steps

a basket in my hand


he rubs his body against hers

rolls over her

treats her like dough

buries her beneath him

her soul cracks across her spine

she is no more

he takes it all

w h a t

h a v e

w e

d o n e

he asks


living under your roof

meant fighting for my life

amongst the innocent


you dragged her through the mud

until she accepted the dirt

that reimagined her with your lies


you professed your love for her

whilst your fingers still smelled of other girls


too often enchantment

reveals an absolute void


I idealised you

and demonised myself

you ate it all up

your bootheel

on my temple

L’Homme aux poupĂ©es” by Jean Veber (1864-1928)

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