The Wicked Poison Child

The Wicked Poison Child

She danced in corners no one dared,

with spider thoughts and viper stares,

her lullabies could split a skull

and drain a dream until it’s dull.

She learned to smile from crooked glass,

to mimic grief, let silence pass,

her toys were bones, her games were lies,

she kissed her dolls then gouged their eyes.

The village warned, the bells were rung,

yet still her song is softly sung,

by girls who burn their hair in braids,

by boys who vanish into shades.

She does not age, she does not fade,

she wears the names of those she played,

and when you sleep she slips inside

the thinnest crack you try to hide.

She hums beneath the cellar floor,

where walls forget what light is for,

her breath is cold, her hunger slow,

she waits for you to call hello.

No priest can chase, no flame can burn,

once she is yours, you never learn,

you’ll smile the way she always did,

a wicked child with truth well hid.