Poetry: Infernal Fire by Andrea Lambert (t/w)

Infernal Fire

When the only life you know
Is broken.
Picture perfect
Manicured hedges
On the outside.

Nude madwoman
Whittled to bone hooks
Running rampant

Driven to spew bile
On the page.
Driven by
An internal,

Slathered with coconut oil.
Performing Latin rituals
With my own bodily fluids
To ancient pagan Gods.
To little or no effect.

I silently scream
To an indifferent world.

Take my meds
Three times a day,
Keeps the men
In white coats away.

Stay inside
Like a good woman should.
So I have heard.
The scarlet letter is A.

From coke whore
To literary lesbian
To eccentric recluse.

I traded in frolics
For respectability.

The dregs
Of coffee grounds
And cat shit.

So indoors.
Craft dreams
Of immortality.

Guardian ghosts,
We ride at dawn
Into the abyss.

Bio: Andrea Lambert is a queer writer, artist and filmmaker with Schizoaffective Disorder. She lives in Nevada with her four cats. Site: andreaklambert.com

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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