Cracked

Dead

What is there to replenish such hopelessness?

To shake this black soul back to life

My heart

remains an ugly scar upon this Earth

Savagely ravaged

mined

by every conqueror who saw

fit to scrape all things beautiful

into their greedy slimy buckets. 

I had

so

much

to

give.

I freely flung open the gates with ecstasy

Awaiting my happily ever after

But alas, dear Alice,

that is where all the good little girls go.

What made you think you could

join them?

What made you think you were

“good” enough?