Tell me you love me

She doesn't care at all. Marionette.

Ballerina's with broken feet.

She rots. Seniorita. Mamacita. Mère.

She's the common law. She's the beast I killed.

I don't want to die. I don't want to live.

She takes the noose on the neck, a leash. Led to the pyre. In between animal and woman.

Scuff of my shoes, drag the mud. Performance art.

Seniorita. Mamacita. Mère.

Metal roses melt my eyelids. She sucks the low hanging fruit. Punches down.

Spreads mustard seeds into the skin. There are ghosts inside of me.

They speak pregnant with flowers choked in their mouths.

Saltwater gargles and cleanses the wounds.

Mamacita. Do you see me?

Behind the red lipstick. Lancôme. White musk, her belle.

Home is an antique painted adrenaline.

Messy, its numb truths stain my hands.

Mére. Do you see me?

Coveralls plastered to my skin. An identity becomes an attachment style.

It's where you don't belong.

Where the moon speaks. Where the nobles bleed.