How witchlike a creature can I be
when the moth at a swipe digs its claws into me
and the blood in my veins cascades to the ground
and the thoughts in my head make no audible sound.
How witchlike a creature do I feel
when a table for two is a cannibals’ meal
and the eggs in the pantry go rotten inside
and the cow in the meadow eats its own hide.
How witchlike a creature do I seem
when the nightmare you chase is my sacred dream
when the pain in your heart is the pleasure in mine
when the warmth that you drink is a poisonous wine.
Everything is not what it seems
The smile on my face is the end to a means.
beeblu blog 
your image matches with your words.
beautiful job!
Happy Monday!
🙂
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Happy September
Wow – this is excellent ‘dark’ poetry with an amazing flow. I loved your imagery too.
Chloe xx
love this and the picture, too — I’m drunk with poisonous wine
Thanks, Monica – I wrote this when I was young and going through my extended ‘Kate Bush’ phase 🙂 but its themes stay with me through the years.