You always told me I would be your forever girl,
And between the sheets
I grew to believe.

In fairy tales and rainbows.

But this porcelain pillow
Has been smothering me
For over twenty minutes
And every minute
Felt like a year
Without your hand upon mine.

Rid me of this foul gas
That somersaults through
The air
Like snow on a
Cold December day.

Yet it hangs
Like a storm cloud
In our veins.

When the dance speeds up,
the tempo slows
And everyone still dances
Like a fool,
Not bothering to look
At the eggshells they are
Stepping on.

Its pouring outside.

Rain falling to the earth like
Bullets shot in the air
on the fourth of July.

And I’ve left my glass slippers
At home
So that my heart
(as broken as it already is)
Doesn’t break even further
When you find out that
I’m not your Cinderella.

She left long ago
On clouds made of cotton candy
Before the storm took
The roof off her house
That her sanity took shelter in.

When time stands still
And my ruby red lips part
To scream profanities into
The wind.

I hear echoes of
Sweet nothings
That once reverberated around
The throat of some lover
Before he cut his throat.

The words never sounded so sweet
So sweetÂ…
When they came from
Lips that
Died
Ages before I was born.

She left her glass slippers
Locked in her
Wooden box hid
Under her bed in some dirty city.

You held my porcelain heart.

Cradled the shattered remains
In the palms of your
Bloody hand.

Smiling into the direction
Of the wind
And hoping that the currents
Carries you away.

Close your eyes and dreamÂ….

Pluck these flower petals from this
Dying flower,
Lost in the wind.

And your still dancing to an
Irregular beat
Smothering people with porcelain pillows
And hoping that one day
The wind will catch beneath your wings
And

You can fly away
To rescue me.