She’s ticking

Marking away the fleeting time.

Counting the beats down to one.

Waiting for that last grain of sand to fall.


Oh she’s an hourglass

waist cinched tight

hipbones jutting

with broad shoulders she dislikes.


She’s ticking,

till that last drop cascades

and her breath runs out.


My Superhero

My superhero rests upon my face,

under my hollowed eyes

below my sunken cheekbones

underneath my red painted nose.


My superhero saves me everyday

casting doubts away

and sending me spiraling

into the world of normalcy.


My superhero defies the laws,

arguing with the other emotions,

contracting deadened muscles

long withered away.


My superhero is the smile

that never cracks,

despite lacing across a fractured viasage.

Never melting,

despite the cascade of thoughts

pressing against my skull.


My superhero is my fake smile,

that never lets my pain be seen.

Pretty Little Girl

I know of a pretty little girl.

Her porcelain skin etched to mark

the tally of her sins.


I know of a pretty little girl

who peeled off her skin

and sewed it back tighter

just so her bones would show.


I know of a pretty little girl

who swallowed a flame

to burn the fat from within.


I know of a pretty little girl

who stapled her eyes shut

so she couldn’t see the temptation.


I know of a pretty little girl

who didn’t think she was so pretty.


I know of a pretty little girl

who destroyed the pretty

destroyed the innocence

and destroyed the girl

so she could become

a skeleton.