she lays in a bed –
unconscious

angelic fragments of light
diffract away from her heart
and all anyone sees is the good that was once there

but you forget
that she wasn’t trying to be

in between

she was trying so very hard to
abandon black
and sublimate her way
to the white,
to the light

o pale woman,
why do you torture her like this?

shrouding her in mist
may be pleasure for some
but for her it is
pain.

grey lady –
she begs of you,
help me survive
or
suffocate me entirely
and after this –

either option is preferable
to the world of aching
you’ve laid on top of her.

be strong,
they whisper.

but strong is impossible
when you’ve thrown silver pins at her feet
and asked her to walk towards heaven