Trapdoor

We swallow our food
Roll back the carpet
Open the trapdoor
Underneath it is cold
Another room
Not a lounge
Or a kitchen
Just a hidden room
One that should be forgotten
All the watches stop beneath the trapdoor
Rabbit would be lost
Squeals Alice
Unaware of the danger
The potential hurt
It would be better if we could disappear into the wardrobe
But that is another story
And we are on our own
In the lost room is an old piano
They keys are yellow
She hammers out a tune
It is neither sad or happy
Just a noise to break the silence
Nothing more than hailstones
Hammering the window
We stay down below for some time
When we feel ready we will go back upstairs
I wonder what awaits us there
A new adventure
Some more time and memories
We climb the stairs
Place the carpet back
And sit in darkness
The light hurts our eyes
It is good to have an oubliette
She whispers
And I hold her hand
We look forward to our next visit there.

Cherry

She licks the sweet red juice off her finger tips
We have been eating cherry pie
And drinking lemonade
The cherries leave a stain
On our hands
And our lips
We are in no hurry to wash the sweetness away
It is a fine way to dine
Fingers warmed by pie crusts
Taste buds brought alive
By the mix of bitter and sweet
There is a little pile of stones
Shall we count them she asks
It will be like a remembrance
A tasty meal
An awakening of the senses
She lies down
Replete and happy
She rubs her tummy
Small specks of red pass on to her apron
We will wash it off another day
The red is drying on her lips
Like lipstick
There is a small smile on her face
She drifts off to sleep
Perhaps she will dream of cherries
I wash the dishes and pull a blanket over her
Maybe tomorrow will be as sweet as today.

Ink

The butterfly tattoo sits quietly on my ankle
Fine purple and black lines
The one place on our skin which is not scorched
Or scarred
How we hate looking in the mirror
It is a reminder
We bathe in darkness
Hate the light
It illuminates the cracks and splinters
It is really quite amazing that we missed the morgue
We are meant to be
She whispers
It is the only reason we survived
I glance at her sideways
Her skin milky and pure
We are happy when we are walking
It makes our head clear
Less blind
There was a hanging
And a thousand overdoses
Perhaps so common
They amount to nothing
When we were crazy we wanted to show our skin
We thought it would tell our story
We sipped lemonade
Rolled up our sleeves
And showed our story
We are thankful for our butterfly
The fading ink
The distance of time
A story in itself
Our survival.

Tribute

You know I adore you

I say

You are my light in the dark

My shining star

She settles back into my arms

She is light

Her hair smells like coconut 

I smell of liquor and decline 

Without you I would be lost

You give me direction

A purpose for being

Quite a load for one so young

But I am old she whispers

And I do feel her as a mother

Or a sister 

It is a special relationship 

One I will share on my own terms

Truth be told

Alice is my life

She saves me 

And soothes me

She is the loudest voice in my head

I like that 

She says

Because she likes to feel important

I cannot say more about her

She is my world

My dreams

My friend 

Perhaps that is enough. 

Dirt

We have feelings
Buried deep down in the dirt
A metal taste on our tongue
A meal for one
Partially digested
It has been forty days
And nights
Of not knowing where our stomach will fall
We are stuck
Turned against the world
There are too many things to see
The clock chimes
Because we let it
It ushers in our dreams
Lint covers our arms
A cooling salve
A beginning
And an end
We wish for sleep
A tender kiss in the night
But the world has other plans
Sharp edges
And never ending holes
Perhaps we will unearth our feelings
Perhaps we will wait for them to spill out
Like water
There must be better times ahead
She whispers
I can only hope there will be.

Apple

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
She says
And when it falls
I will be waiting with a paring knife
Ready to cook up a crumble
For Hatter and his tea
It is as if order is restored
With the falling
And the eating
She is happy
She has a purpose
I am lost
Swimming in unknown waters
I admire her tenacity
Her will to make each day stronger
I wish for a little of her luck
You have it already
Silly
She replies
I cannot argue
She is right
Of course
Perhaps it should be said
That what does not kill you makes you stronger.

Onions

Me and mother chop onions
At the kitchen sink
It is a quiet occupation
Our faces set
No need for words
Hands busy
Hardened through years of peeling
The window is chipped
Three tiny holes
The curtains long since torn down
Alice sleeps
Curled up in a ball
In a little chair by the fire
Her breathing is steady and gentle
Like waves
She ate a sandwich and pea soup
She declared it was not as good as tea and cake
We gather up the parts we have have made
It really is like unwrapping a soul
The air is pungent
But inviting
For a second we think the moment could not be improved
Mother chews her lip
It is her way of thinking
I try not to delve too deep
I would rather be an apple than an onion
When we have finished we sit at the table
Without work we struggle to feel each other
But we are together
Perhaps that is what counts
The onions bubble
Soon we will eat soup and sleep.

Ashes

The flowers in our mouth turn to ashes
Sweet poppies
And dried chrysanthemums
Perhaps if we swallow them
They will bloom
A sweet salve in our gullet
Our throat is dry
We drink water in the afternoon
Make the garden grow
Feel the petals and stems
Absorb the colours
And the prickles
It is a dangerous dance
One we have played many times before
One we wish we did not have to dance again
The Red Queen touches my shoulder
I tell her a bit of my story
She already knows it
She has felt it too
Her face is white as linen
Her lips red
And her eyes are bright blue
We are thankful it is not raining
Although rain would make the flowers grow
Alice giggles
We will savour the flowers
Become intoxicated
Sleep away the drowsy
Ash turns to flowers
Flowers turn to juice
We are full up
Ready to flower and bloom.

Lovely Birds

The lovely birds
Sweep in on a summer breeze
We do not know where they are going
Or why
It feels as if our mind is unfurling like a rope
We will vanish tonight
Our lips dry and unloved
She sings quietly under her breath
It forms a mist
A token across the miles
We cringe and gawk
Look up to the skies
Across the way a tap drips
It is steady
Like a heart beat
There is a sign on our door
It is formed of letters and numbers
Do not let the wolf pass the threshold
He will chop you up like liver
We look at our arms
They have changed form
We would like to wrap them in ticker tape
Celebrate our survival
Perhaps when summer is fully come
We will expose them
It cannot be any worse than hiding
The birds coo and sing
We fall into a slumber
Windows open
Cool air fanning our body
Soothing our mind.