your eyes, they murmur

they whisper that you’ve lied

lied about waking

lied about seeing

mumbled, the words crawl

itching, peeling your skin

you see something but the mirror must be broken,

you can’t see yourself

a muddled cry from your throat doesn’t seem right,

notes sputtering like birds off a line

through unwieldy lips

in horror, you clasp your mouth

only to feel a parrot’s beak.

it itches, it murmurs, it crawls

don’t breathe too loudly, else your thoughts leave your ears

weeping, you try to erase this face that isn’t yours

run paint over your head to wash away

your beak, your eyes, your nose, your brows

let it seep into your eyes, taint them a blinding red

cut grooves into your face

clump into twisted horns on your head

howling, you lay in your dungeon

tug at your horns, your hair

scrape at the drying paint

drown in its shallow hold as you spit venom,

stinging your face,

don’t move, keep expecting for them to find you

to send a knight, too holy and bright

trembling, lay waste in your dread

shatter cracked hearts and tear head from neck

pillage their village

make sure the knight has no place to rest

decorate yourself with rings of hornet stings

pearls of prized crocodile eyes

cloaks of silky snake skins

you sit upon a throne of jagged butterfly wings,

yet in spite of this splendor, you can only quail

for you can hear the clink of metal

the approaching hooves

snarl as you see the the glint of a sword

thirsty for your neck

an eye trained on your form

righteousness at your doorstep

quaking and screeching,

you fight to no avail

a coward, you perish

as the monster you think you were