The Wilting

POEM I.

a glass shard, a ripped receipt
broken mirrors at my feet
cold air
dark sheets

empty gold weighs the most
fear inhabits those with ghosts

gilded cages held her down
hornets buzzed around her crown

in the darkest hours, we ran
jackals chased us down

kill my frown
love my crown
move the moon, all for you
no strings attached

oval pendulums
painted roses
questionable attacks

rise at night
set at dawn
tear down my walls
usurp the throne
vying betrayals
where did you go?