Thornfield Hall first published in Rhythm n bone press Issue 6: Love My heart is Thornfield Hall and I am your ashen governess, ventricles pounding stronger behind a ribcage of poverty and literature written in cursive. Your inherited hallways blaze with an inferno of secrets and mystery, sharper than pain and there are too many losses in my life to keep me from dismissing the echoes that you left in the hollows of my chambers. I will share this collapsed mansion with you that a foreign fire claimed and I can guide you down the path that has been spared. I can walk at your pace, there are no ghosts anymore- dead embers of final secrets sealed off from the one you love most. Love Letter from a Ragdoll to a Skeleton Performer first published in Rhythm n bone press Issue 6: Love All of this is a nightmare, my love- sewing stitches in blue-hued skin as you wander off in a skeletal vacancy; your theatrical mind loosening in a spiral no cerebrum of mine can reach while patches of pumpkins begin to push out their rot, the glow of the moon casting down a spotlight not quite bright enough for your creative hands, the hill on which you stand too earthly and isolated for a stage. I know you think you'll wither without an entrance, my love, but you are far more adored than any persona you think you've created with your own bones. Uncover your core and let me see the exposed insides of what you push away, let me rub the dust of what your mortar and pestle thumb and forefinger do to yourself when you ponder the night away while you think I'm asleep. I'll take you into my skin, I'll take you into my stiches. Please let me in. I've seen the gaps underneath your pinstripes and there is room for me. The Second Ophelia first published in Dark Marrow Issue 2 March 2019 Lining my pockets with stones was the best alternative, my love I didn't want to skim the surface in a secluded pond, oily dredge seeping into my nostrils, pores No, this will be a brightly lit lake under a spotlight of violent sun. Jonquils and jasmine threading through my fevered hair, a torrent of water gushing through my throat. Synapses unspooling while silent, clouded lullabies on loop lull me to sleep. My own mouth quietly singing hymns over the laps of trembling water, the tumbling rushes that will govern me I sing not of defeat, but of the peace I swim so desperately to, my sinking body a difficult analogy for those born without our defects - you with a boiling temper and tunneled eyes, me with an anvil mind and a predisposition to permanent loss over temporary joy... The stormy thoughts that battle within me have no bearing on you, my darling- they stir and brew, collide behind my eyes- weigh like my swelling lungs Home Recovery in the Countryside first published in Dark Marrow: Issue 3 Crucifix July 2019 My fever still hasn't broken. Crows stare at me from my whitewashed porch while the pitcher of milk sits on the sideboard, a towel draped neatly at its side. They haven't moved from the paint chipped railings in days- they're bunched in clusters-murders-thick amounts of swollen chests, huddled hearts, and sharp beaks. Twitchy, squat droplets of ink that rove around on this barren landscape stretching their claws upwards, pointing at the sky, accusing it. There isn't a mailbox for miles. Their onyx eyes like rosary beads follow paired in fidgety feathered beasts. They were sent to watch me - and they want in!- they can see under my bandages, gossamer wrapped me mummy style guarding against the flies, the infection, the air. My tongue moves in shifts, thick like marbles, the enamel of my teeth turning to water dripping down my throat downing me -I can't breathe!- but they haven't made a sound. They want my throat. They want to peck at the holes in the back of my raw throat so they can get to my soul They can smell the stitches December Lace is a former professional wrestler and pinup model from Chicago. She has appeared in the Chicago Tribune, Pro Wrestling Illustrated, The Molotov Cocktail, Pussy Magic Lit, The Cabinet of Heed, Dark Marrow and Rhythm & Bones YANYR Anthology, among others as well as the forthcoming Riggwelter Press and Coffin Bell. She loves Batman, burlesque, cats, and horror movies. She can be found on Twitter @TheMissDecember and http://decemberlace.blogspot.com.
Fevers of the Mind 