Unicorn whispers

Paper dolls and ribbons
never in between
girlhood always screaming
coming after me
with memories of innocence
or what it could have been
paper dolls and ribbons
lace dresses everywhere
growing up is difficult
with porcelain in the air
the unicorns are whispering
dancing on the fields
paper dolls and ribbons
burning in the reels
everybody watching
on the silver screen
the unicorns are whispering
and then the innocence leaves

Numbers and letters

Numbers and letters
school books and the like
we don’t think about it
not more than twice
school girls and school boys
so young and innocent
the death of all of that
we often try to forget
paint the picture by the numbers
pick a letter for the wise
can’t write to save the living
can’t breathe to save your life
numbers and letters
school children too
everything breaks
around quarter to noon

The lake

The lake is silver
it reflects
the mist of my lost innocence
memories of times no better
when little girls still tar and feather
everything so still, serene
the beauty of what lies beneath
she is sullen like the sky
the lake it mirrors
the dry moonlight
innocence I thought was mine
the lake it hides my silver lining
I was good it was just all timing

Left of us

Burn away the suffocation
placate scars with gratification
pleasure the senses-don’t forget
bath in salt and peppermint
keep the aroma fresh and simple
everything clean, red, and traditional
burn away the smell of death
decay of human innocence
burn the petals and the trunk
fill the ashes with what’s left of us

thread the nightmare

Take a needle
that’s what they’ll say
at the end
when it’s all grey
the sky on fire
they dug her grave
open the mouth
grow insane
lips of an angel
come what may
broken thread
as bedtime comes
the needle pokes
the eye for fun
a child’s innocence
comes undone.

The horror trunk

Take the blood from roots
drain the veins that feed
all the losing battles
all the love supreme
judge the one eternal
for deeds done not by them
drown the child deeper
kill the kittens dead

Sweet sixteen

Lolita, Lolita,
all these baby divas
just too sweet to beat’em-
bet Roman Polanski would eat’em!
All these gilded ladies
merely idol babies
even Cosmopolitan’s not that crazy-
dating older men is just so passe,
these older broads-so nasty
get’em while they young?
That’s okay?
Tyga ain’t a man!
No way.
The Weeknd is just sad.
The old way.
Kate Hudson is a drag-
so thirsty-woman robs the cradle-
it’s just another Thursday?
All the rich and young-just prey
sacrifice them up-
its so great!
Kylie Jenner’s strong?
She’s okay?
This is all alright-it’s not though.
We once protected the young,
but that times gone.
Bella Thorne is just one-
in a hundred,
another child without a youth
just exploited-
by her own accord,
but we don’t stop it
or
tell them that it’s okay
not to flaunt it-
tell them it’s okay just to want it.
The world’s gone mad
and we just watch it
no one gives a damn-
just fuck off it.