Her Beelzebub

6e84338267bdedf4f7ff3489acc90571

Her mother sensed the evil

When she found black stains on white sheets.

Torn fabric and charred wicker

Sent infant cries from the cradle.

A string of coos hushed the child,

But unchecked went streaks of red in brown irises.

~

A depraved soul not yet sixteen

Sat atop frozen roof tiles,

As her mother lamented friends

Sent to push her over the edge.

Burning lungs reflected a life turned left,

And a shooting star sprinkled ash on coarse skin.

~

She turned twenty-four in a black alley

With blood on her hands.

Jagged metal pierced skin

Before disappearing into cold flesh.

Her mother’s sobs rang in her memory

When the steaming vent released a cackle.

~

Her death fell behind metal bars,

Fluorescent lights turning pale skin gray.

Red roses turned black

On a shattered gravestone.

Tears dripped from her mother’s cheeks,

For she knew the path below the grave,

~

And Beelzebub welcomed his child to hell

As she clawed her skin raw.

– kh.

© February 2017 | Placer County, California

34. Paper Towns

Allow me to clear up a few things here first: Did I only read this book because the movie was released recently? Yes. Did I read the book before I saw the movie? No. Did I have high expectations of the book from the movie? Somewhat. Did I enjoy the book? Yes. And I never thought I’d admit it about any John Green book. Continue reading “34. Paper Towns”