[Submission] the guillotine sleeping with the neck
pretty little lamb, why trade your dawn for death with me?
the guillotine sleeping with the neck.
in foggy forks, where we lay our scene,
asphalt-soaked rain stains the roads of the
a distressed denim and damp timber town.
a shivering girl emerges from the fir trees in scuffed converses and her dad’s plaid shirt,
curling into herself, arms guarding her porcelain heart.
his amber resin eyes rest on the the strawberry sweet veins under her skin,
and the natural orders of prey and predator begin.
she is but a lone doe among the moss,
sheltered by a life of onyx caves.
he'll let her drain, he'll let her fade away,
but she bites and writhes as well as she runs.
pretty little lamb,
you've been looking just for me?
pretty little lamb,
why trade your dawn for death with me?
the prey scutters into my open jaw,
and as she waits for the fangs to fall,
in her brown listless eyes and still unshaking neck he saw,
she wasn't scared.
a mutation against all the sense provided by evolution,
the monster, the predator and the vampire,
the means for her execution,
she trusted.
and so it is, that the lion succumbs to the lamb,
the guillotine sleeping with the neck.
This poem was submitted to the White Lily Society for the limited time submission prompt “vampire girlfriend”
Amelia E., 23yo, London // @ ameliaa.ela on instagram // A couple poems published in digital magazines, but most hidden in her notes folder.
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