I abandoned house and terror
reconnected with the dead that never left
mouth open at the heel
*
I listened to my own faces behind my ears
the scent of my skin and fingers somewhere in my growing hair
voice over voice over voice almost unrecognisable
I’m told that I shouldn’t look
shouldn’t turn back
they say that ugliness is not worth looking at
I disagree
*
she swallows her coffee
swallows what happened to her
the taste fights against her intake
the memory crawls back up
the senses try to wake up
she shuts down
numbs her face
freezes her body
like he did
grabs the mascara
grabs the foundation
grabs every tool in the box
*
he brought a threat with him
he smelled of danger
of unwholesomeness
something told me to stay away from him
something told me he partially gave me life
I think for him it was a coincidence
an unreflected act of self-liberation
indulgence, pleasuring himself with her body,
letting it all out, letting himself go
detoxicating himself into her
and she carried me for months
within her shame of what he continuously did to her
what she allowed to happen
what she was taught to endure
with her dying body
with her invaded body
open wide
he dug her grave
his amusement park
and I swallowed mother and father
Croque-Melpomene 