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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