There
see her
shallow breath
sternum contracted
she makes small movements
careful not to breath
small smaller
never perfect enough
tethered to a leash
she tries to heel
having grown dog arms
she lives without love
shadows move easily
within her like a song
see her crown of razor blades
her robe of mirrors
dry heaving on the bathroom floor
a sanctuary really
she is tracing the lines
on the tile’s grout
tiny roads to the River Styx
to Devil's Gulch and the Maurice Cemetery
she hears things now
and pretends she's a widow
the ghost pine behind the house
are her sisters
beckoning her at night
he's hollering again
about how she ruins things
she mumbles under her breath
cussing him in her languages
he calls her mad
sometimes she believes him
and keeps various powders
hidden in a compact, lines up the Xanax
along her inseam, tucks them behind her ear
tiptoeing through the formal garden
chugging the vodka
dreaming of oblivion
she lives in the 4th sky
followed by birds
and knows how true monsters
despise what they love
- Jolaoso Prettythunder
