The Poisoned Girl

some said this girl
that had seen sin
was poisoned.
that she lingered
in decaying hearts
and broken minds,
seeping love and thought
from their blood,
exploring memories,
drawing power and
driving her victems mad.
these people
never asked, never wanted
truth.
they heard and believed,
the stories, the rumors.
women shunned the child,
men surrounded her in the dark,
they took everything from her,
this girl, still too young, still a baby,
she became a silent prisoner
devoured by blazing fear.
it kept her up at night,
and every morning she'd awake to
long unanswered questions
that twisted her mind until
she'd scream-shatter into pieces
like concrete crumbling,
the pain eroded, changed her.
yesterdays angel became a demon.
this daughter who had once
picked fresh flowers that bore
summer magic like a green aura,
who had eaten caramel candy and
had a voice child-like and soft as corduroy,
bled out.
leaving behind a body of
open wounds
and deep scars the ached
everytime the corpse slowed it's dance.
for awhile
this ghost being almost
stayed in rhythm
embraced the dying fever
of the dead girls left over life.
lost in a delicious desire to live,
it sailed through the fire.
perhaps if the bodies eyes
in their cool steel gaze
had never seen the gaping hole
in it's own naked smile,
never looked in the haunted mirror,
it would have continued,
but, alas, it did.
it drowned itself with drink
and days and nights ceased to have meaning.
never again did the skeleton dance.
the people who cut her first,
watched her die again.
I was there.
I looked on as the sister I knew
burnt her body to smoke,
then eternity passed as
her own ghost self-destructed.
Our father listened to her speak
but he didn't hear.
I tried to heal her.
I fed the body
moist cake and champagne,
sang to my sister's soul.
I wasn't ready to lose her,
her body.
I tried to make it remember
how to breathe,
looked for color to paint it with,
I found none, they can't put life on a palette.
slowly, the body lost it's warmth,
porcelein sking liquified,
rotten lips, and blind eyes
to young, to good
to be turned into salt and ice,
but no one could fix it now,
always too late, help comes,
to bury her remains.
the killers come to mourn,
dogs growling at shuddering bushes,
every moring my brother asks
"does sissy get to kiss the clouds goodbye?"
his voice, wet with sleep
never cracks.
more and more
the people who know nothing
of this ferocious ocean of throbbing loss
slander her name.
these disgusting wastes of flesh
awaken rage inside me,
fire catching,
with dazzling disdain in my throat
I curse them.
I put away my past
and I'm blind from hate,
my mind wrapped in velvet,
I cut my ties and let myself burn.
This vast streaming life.
Her poison floods me,
but it was never hers,
the fire never cools,
and i know
I'll soon
burn out.