TheCourtRose

Wily Jack and Chapters 1, 2 and 3 Paper butterflies next to electric candles but they burn anyway Maybe there is some hope for the flowers after everything More music than I can remember tonight Strumming fingers whispering over strings, whispering through strung up paper hearts, papering the table next to the candles Put a heart down my shirt, one down my boot- so in the morning (after chapters 2, 3 and 1) I'd remember you and all the music Butterflies resurrect so easily, after all- dying and reemerging Wishing I could say the same for my pounding head and new found hearts, after my night with Wily Jack

1 Here was I again, in the mansion made of white. White walls, floors, furniture, ceiling, except for my lips. My lips were blood red. Everyone was there- friends, family, enemies, old lovers. Smiling teeth of bone white, circling each other with ivory limbs. Yet the storm raged outside and I knew something was coming. Snow was piling against the windows, the wind shrieking madly in wild gales. Bundled in scarves and kid gloves, they looked at me and smiled their bone smiles. Stop fretting, they say. You worry too much. So much drama over nothing. No one believed a word I said. They continued to sip their drinks from white trays, and glasses of the clearest crystal. And I, I was alone among them. 2 How long had I been here? A day? A year? An entire lifetime. Pushing against the throngs I made my way down a hallway. Could they not feel the beasts outside? Maybe only just miles from the house. Time was running out and my blood was going cold. Every glance to ...

Realized today that I was waiting Something missing in the wind 50 degrees with thick, chill air Took two days and nights to remember what it is ...Sea salt Wanting to smell sea salt on the breeze and hear the cry of gulls rent the air The quiet wind whirls around me in a cloak of memory Can't help but feel the deficit on my skin