| I tend to be very eclectic. You'll find many different themes, mediums, and genres in here. But they're all beautiful and worthy of your attention. |

on dandelions and other things...we weren't children after deathon dandelions and other things... by *graveful
already sick at five and six,
burning bulbs
breaking
in our lungs
like fireworks
or gunshots;
we sold bouquets of dandelions
obnoxious yellow pools with sticky stems
you were charismatic even then
and
fever-breathed,
at eleven i was coke
and at twelve you were my heroin--
when we held each other close
while we tied each other's nooses
you drew blood from all the bruises on me,
you drew blood
you drew love
you drew blood and love from me--
i learned something about people, then
if i'm destroyed, i can't destroy
if you destroy, you cannot self-destruct

The Haunting-GirlI came undone, unwoven,The Haunting-Girl by *graveful
With the madness of the ill;
And soon I came to be, to be,
The haunting-girl of Albany.
At first they said, they said to me,
"Elizabeth, don't cry."
But in my house on Maple Hill,
I watched my mama die.
My papa really hurt her,
But I can't remember why,
And he beat my mama still,
And still, they said, they said, they said,
"Elizabeth, don't cry."
In days, in days, in days,
I started seeing Mama,
Crawling from the fireplace.
She had burns and blisters on her body,
Tears running down her face, her face.
In a week, a week, they said, they said,
"We go to hell the day we're dead."
And so I saw my mama, mama,
Burning in
| I tend to be very eclectic. You'll find many different themes, mediums, and genres in here. But they're all beautiful and worthy of your attention. |
