BE.HOLD

Behold, arrangements of petaled flowers in her hair

Cold stare, her eyes snipe laser star beams through the hearts of her victims

Survivors, speak what you must about her thrust

It’s the coldest winter this summer without her.

Cock your head to the side and let her whisper your sins

Slithering on baited skin

Waiting for her breath to penetrate your eager heart

Startled by her might, though she may terrify you.

It’s not over for you and her —

There is truth behind the curse she stole from you

Agonizingly pierced by nerve pinches up and down your arms

Heart attack, she’s nothing more than gone.

J.F

close up of couple holding hands
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
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