Whispers from the trees
Softly teasing, you mock my still and frozen corpse,
The leaves have fallen, the ghosts all lay bare.
Ice tears, dead now, rolling off my empty face,
Dead but moving, they poison my hair.
My screams hang silent, lost without a role to play,
My naked body, exposed to all the world.
Once a candle, beauty of the warmest kind,
Now just empty, an ugly melted girl.
Your eyes just mock me, you love me frozen at your feet,
Out your knife comes, ready to destroy.
Slow, you cut me, I feel no pain for I am dead,
A broken body, a perfect sacred toy.
Blood, it weeps now, deeply red and staining me,
Crying softly, across my snowy skin.
Creeping slowly, a web of blood across my chest,
A bitter beauty, the threads of all my sin.
The startling elegance, blood on snow and snow on coal,
You cut me open, and kiss my blood-stained lips.
Deep, you search me, the snow growing redder still,
Deep, you hold me; my soul burnt by your tips.
You will not find it; my heart is broke beyond repair,
You may find pieces, alone and gnarled by grief.
But still you search me, my silent body dead to you,
No more snow now; innocence was brief.
“Daddy, stop it,” the whispers breathe through the trees,
“Mummy, help me,” the pleads are tears of dew.
“Grandma, I’m sorry,” the water trickles with my shame,
“Grandad, I love you,” the ammo you will chew.
Done, you leave me, an empty bloodied frozen corpse,
Dead, I’m alone now, my heart a ruptured core.
If I may live again, I know I will not be the same,
The girl you tortured; a girl to you no more.