she is a marionette
caught in her own strings.
strings she thought did not exist.
she is a black widow spider who has bitten
herself by mistake.
and she struggles in vain
expiring slowly
trapped in her own naive webbing.
doll spider.
her bite would kill you
but her heart will kill her
first.
ethereal light
masquerading as darkness
sweet and venomous
smudged paint drips off her
hollow wooden cheeks
her tired blurry eyes look
downward.
she told the fly she was free
but she forgot
the wood carver sewed strings
purposely
into her heart.
she spins the tarantella with fire
but a faulty cable in her soul
steals her word.
fishnet and wire and yarn
dance in her eyelashes
she thrashes violently
wearily
held hostage in this red dance that
never seems to cease
heavy with broken limbs
and tattered visions
gnawing,
grabbing,
screaming at the
razor blade strings
that exhaust her
consume her
deny her
destroy her
she sits to rest a while
and as she lays there
twisted and mangled
like a princess seduced into war
she hears a far away lullaby
calling from within her like a
queen's distorted battle cry
power stirs
her bruised brittle heart.
she feels
beautiful
once again.
and she calmly starts spinning a
hushed quiet waltz.
she doesn't remember it always starts this way.
the handsome flies look on
and smirk at her
they never go hungry
flies know
doll spiders
always drown in their own
sweet poison.
