Photo by alex bracken on Unsplash
My Instagram
Is becoming a collection of corpses
Lovers past
Lovers un-future-d
Lovers removed from the present
I, bone witch, collect all of these mutual rejections
Spread their ashes in a closet of
/I might see you in public/ discomfort
My nails tap the windows
of this virtual mausoleum
block and mute buttons
my cape decorated by a beautiful barrage
heart beating deaths and agitated spirits
I make rituals out of you,
uncounted almosts
turned cord cutting ceremonies of never
Restricted entry to this public profile
Vampires, hoping to drain me, a bite/a post,
a way inside my psyche
My pride/ a burning ray of petty sunlight
I envision
putting a stake through their heart
/instead/ - I am the one who feels the stab
Inject you with silence,
you pierced into me
all the letters typed burn into withering skeletal messages
Your ludus is bold font
ready to be erased in every mention
of what didn’t, what wasn’t, and what we won’t do
These ghosts
howl with their ego,
ignorant to my no longer giving flowers to a dead horse,
a ride I cannot get to never never land with
NO
a sigil to protect myself
against the all of this debauchery of roaming souls
These ghouls - attempt to haunt me as if
I do not know how to return them back to their nothingness
They wish to repossess me
like I wasn’t demon first -
finding my way back through my ancestors, my coven, my guides.
I died first,
in all this disappointment.
Made it a 6 ft deep profile
of smiles and poems that
Could never reach the shallow bits of your possibilities
Trying to gain entry into my subconscious
when I have alt-deleted, archived, and reset all of the entry ways to this sacred tomb
I wish you rest and peace- but not in this
Graveyard of sunflowers
Lysz Flo is a, trilingual spoken word artist, author of fiction and poetry, member of The Estuary Collective, and podcast host of Creatively Exposed who released her poetry novel Soliloquy of an Ice Queen.