#MarrowPDXWrites Day3

She looks at me,

               Watching,

Waiting,

     Warning.


I ignore her,

Blooming,

        Blushing,

     Blind.


It is light out, the greenhouse playing Mother to all the plants, insects, and vermin inside.


Who is inside?


My family where are they?

Brother, can you hear me?

Mother are you near me?


She is with me,

Translucent white dress,

Mane as black as crows feathers,

Eyes that house orbs black as night

Large as saucers.



I see her,

She is paper white,

She is peering into my skin,

My blood is thickening

& turning cold.

She is porcelain perfect, like a

Victorian doll, and her

Presence dims the hospitality

Of the Mother, greenhouse.


She opens her mouth as if to speak, I am transported to space, for it is a black hole with no sight of starry white teeth or soft pinks, the hint of a tongue.


Who is inside?


My family where are they?

Brother, can you hear me?

Mother are you near me?

I take a step back,

      Anxious,

Antsy,

    Animalistic.


She follows,

  Hungry,

        Hurting,

    Humourless.


Where I go, she follows. Like a mosquito drawn to blood, a vulture drawn to rotting flesh.  




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Finn Budd