My eyes are green plaster,
the scent of hell, a muffled cry
pulled from the roots of a last smile.
Tears gather shadows to parade
across the ceiling and soot secrets
into my eyelids where nightmares hide.
Normal plays hide and seek…I twist
my doll’s hands into prayers, but their
plastic God only cares about ruffled lace.
Giggles join hands…Pink cheeks chase the sun.
I am a ghost dressed in hand me downs,
two shoe laces away from their ring of rosie.
I chase crows…They sing of robins.
Eenie meanie...The Monster drinks daylight.
My eyes are green plaster and I can’t speak plastic God.
Fireblossom Friday: "The Distorted Lens"
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Hank