Alice in her party dress,
eyes blackened with fear;
chalk-white determined face;
smeared lipstick like a crimson scream
echoing her dripping scarlet bracelets…
The weeping willows hum
a late lullaby while
she strides down the bank,
carrying her emptiness
on naked feet…
A siren wailing in her skull,
a siren she calls Craving.
Alice in her party dress
chooses to yield. She knows
Radiohead can't cry her tears no more;
Marylin Manson cannot yell
her anger any longer;
movie stars have ceased to act out her dreams.
Things started to grow against her will:
her breasts at first;
then body hair in strange places;
then emotional swells;
finally minutes, and nightmares.
She has fought the demons,
dark and tortured creatures,
sitting on her chest by night.
Alice in her party dress
lays back her head on river waves,
her long hair floating like a swan,
red streamlets drifting from her wrists…
She has no force left,
no will to fight.
The darkness too black,
too stark the pain,
and words too harsh yet meaningless,
and life just a daily sigh,
and still eternities to bear.
All this must end…
Alice in her party dress,
swept away by the nameless river,
dragged down into a wet womb,
Alice lifts up
and disappears into the
painless
whiteness…