Sticks and Stones

Elizabeth Rose sat on the edge
Her wooden heart
Sawing the grain –
Blood in the cut
Opening with a thread
The hem only bordered
by flimsy flesh
Elizabeth Rose dangled her legs
Over the rim
her red eyes weeping,
a dirge
for the dead
Sticks and stones left
Horse bones and ashes swept
Elizabeth Rose staggered to her feet
Shaking legs
Black smoke billowed
Around the fallen,
Her frame borne,
a walking memory
as she continues on.





Contaminated Shell

Photo Courtsey of Edited

Photo Courtesy of

These walls are lonely,

Confines of misery,

Blank and unmoving,

They give me no glee,

The doors of this place,


Slip off the hinge,

Toxic caution,

A Contaminated shell,

The windows moan,

Timber floors groan,

The weight of solitaire,

Heavy to bare,

Burdensome still,

I await you.