She holds my heart two mouths crawling the Medusa legs us pale girls virulence being told is our blood and bones. A dead body cannot turn a heart; but your words can kill me If I let them trace onto my maddening hands like a bush like a black cancer from the yew tree. Us pale girls know love in each other. If the sun is a whore into the death let her be; I am smoke and dead, I am at once who I am my love is my snow child only to grow I am not what you thought shame for you, not for me. I am the doom through your blood, but I’m free. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for Pride Month and submitted to Visual Verse. Hope you could enjoy. 🏳️🌈 Happy Pride!
6/10/21: Reposted for the dVerse OLN.