I was riper than fire,
swallowed by coal that spat out
bones.
I thought they were mine,
my bones to fold
into a clone –
A body with no cracks
I could own.
Her body had no cracks.
An arched back.
where poppied bruises
sang ring-a-ring o’ roses in the cobbles
of her spine.
Shoulders pocketed knotted knees,
nursing crying eyes.
Cackling sorely, ribs drank air to calm
her disguise.
She stood in glass, a ghost;
I stared, imitating her.
Leaving with only her shadow to
follow.
It was lighter than petals and filled
the cracks in my wrists –
I almost forgot they were there.
Then I found her in a reflection.
She scowled at my skin,
dripping like milk.
And pricked by strawberry scars.
Her golden hand nipped my
stomach. Numbing
its shrieks silent.
And with her fingers
she dug into my
cheeks. Until they were
hollow.
You, a ghoul behind my eyes,
you break my heart
as I die.
Be warm with clemency or
release my bones!
I am more beautiful as fire,
than you are as coal.
Words by Natasha Rainy
Art by Elizabeth Corrall