Alyx Chérifa Taounza-Jeminet

Make my lips purple.
And my heart grow sizes. Like a kid again, blue blood from the arteries, chewing down a pen.

Ink fountain, the stain pure as blood. Never wash it away. You'll remember this day, the rope, the tears.
Pretend it's not yours.

Singing a lullaby you think of the word itself, so light. Feathers pierce your skin from inside out, you're the bird, you're the song, you're never getting out of feeling so light to the next kid.
He will not care for the word.
It's nothing but a word. It doesn't pierce anything.

Words written and sung. I was so young when I met their sharpened edge.
Feel free to let the cold ridge of their dissonance against your heart.
Mine was cut out so I wouldn't hear a thing.

And so I write, I never sing. Though I wish to cry, only the blue poison spurts out.