she looks at me from the land of the dead
repeating without moving her mouth
that she is not finished yet
her jaw holds her rancour in place
and for once she wants to conquer
and end this ongoing relationship with the dead
who are more alive in her memory
than she is in her own body
that she lets decay underneath her face
she opens her eyes in the morning
the death wish anchored behind her eyelids
she fantasises about her own death
as she drags her body through her ruined house
and plans ahead and begs without saying a word
goes to bed each night wishing herself away
evoking death in a house that tries to survive
the way she looks at herself in the mirror is a horror story
her body gives in to her as she takes up less and less space on purpose
as she shrinks according to her self-effacement
she makes herself small because she doesn’t want to matter anymore
she doesn’t want to carry herself around anymore
she has had enough of her name being spoken
nothing about her ever felt more natural
than the taste of Coca Cola on her tongue before she died
Croque-Melpomene 