Coal legged
Chest beating
Steaming heart
Wilting flowered flesh
Infuriated scars of sickness inhaling
Conforming like clay to my bating wings
My body is a cavity scrapping over glass
Step through the school gates
As a faerie whisper steals my mind away
Impregnated with a child’s dusty hope
For tomorrow, though forlorn for today
Sparks of disillusion are nourishment for my soul
And if it wasn’t for my overactive imagination
I would probably be dead
Pricks inside my eyes
Hollow in my womb
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