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Veruca
4 pm, november 30 2002
she won't say anything to me
her hair has grown into a maze that trails
behind her around her
and underneath it the grass turns pale
such fat little worms
fall from her sleeves
such a long jewelled snake
on the tip of her tongue
her eyes are so fiery but freezing
and always, always unblinking
i can't step right
and i fall
and she won't help me up
she just keeps treading closer
and closer
and i'm fighting back tears
trading some pride
for a cry of help
cause i don't want to know how sharp the thorns are
at the edge of her feet
and no one's coming
no one's coming for me.
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