my eyes deep into the looking glass they go
the crevice on my throat regulates my breath so slow
bones my genetic frame from the Danube it came
a girl with a mind of her own but her thoughts are filled with white carnations and light pink madness
stuffed into a blue and gold Chinese vase they go
ivory exquisite bones of beasts and mastodons fixed into the old red velvet settee
ivory silks drape my milky skin past my finger tips dipped in obsidian tears
the bench that holds my weight a fancy rosewood filigreed trophy
my deeply regretful eyes slide over to the compromised canopy bed made with hate and lies
there where on some deceitful night opened legged and mouth shut tight
i am supposed to worship you
more is endless breath is tight
nervous docile night
let’s walk into the light
we forever have been everything
we are daughters of the fight

mb was born and raised in urban Los Angeles and is a Gen X’er who chronicles and scrawls about the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment. mb personally battles depression and anxiety, but utilizes writing and art to self-regulate.

you can read more of mb’s writing at Words Less Spoken