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To have survived this long 

despite the world’s penchant 

for beautiful dead girls,

Is that not magical in itself?

The heart is an arrow

It demands aim to land true, 

it leaves us

all altered

by the hands 

that teach us 

layers to pain.

I thought I was hungry

for love, 

but maybe I was just

hungry for blood.

My love,

I’d die for them, 

but I’d live 

for you,

letting whatever is silenced 

clamor to be heard, 

though silently.

The cheerful oblivion, 

of others, and

no one thinks 

to look up,

you know. 

I thought 

that I would bow

before no one

and nothing 

but my crown, 

but your actions do not

absolve you of

your sins-

a slap

across the face,

is just a hand 

cradling a cheek

with too much force. 

It is better to be lost 

in a beautiful daydream 

than trapped in a

dim reality,

and he is 

the manifestation 

of longing

built up with 

nowhere to go,

and he craves, he years, he covets,

yet I am infinite. 

Greed may do

your bidding, 

but death serves no man,

and I am infinite. 

Men mock the gods

until they need them,

and how furious she must be,

now that she’s 

been taken

at her word. 

Being wanted meant

having to satisfy, 

but what is so wrong

about being a b-tch?

It is the closest 

a girl can be

to a wolf.

Better terrible truths

than kind lies, 

but death 

does not erase

the point of life. 

***

Crèche to Command, boredom.

Crimson Rivers, bizzarestars.

Art Heist, Baby!, otbrs.

The Handmaid’s Tale, Margret Atwood.

Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo.

A Court of Mist and Fury, Sarah J. Maas.

Fourth Wing, Rebecca Yarros.

Mermaids, Florence + The Machine.

The Honey Witch, Stephanie J. Shields.