happy strains of music
that once saw her smile
now paint her cold
sick
wishing she’d paid attention
only the poetess ever knows
the meaning behind
rhymes and lines
rindercella slossed her dripper
london lost jack the ripper
six years ago
she didn’t have a twin
in five hours everything died
two and two make four
but three’s enough
company
for one
what doesn’t kill
strengthens
with a tinge of insanity
why so serious?
there’s a reason
wishes don’t come
true
maybe she means
the opposite of
everything
she hasn’t
said
life doesn’t bother
to give explanations
those belong to
death