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intheheartTitle: tricks
Rating: PG
Summary: Yvonne as a girl.
Date: Halloween 1975.
Notes: I... don't even know. It started as a prose piece, then became a sonnet and now it's half that and half a Babylon rhyme. idk. Enjoy.
Her dress is the red of blood, fresh blood, and her skin as white as cream.
She has painted the nails on her hands and feet a shiny lacquered green.
Green for the poisoned apples and the sky before a storm.
Red for the blood that's spilled this night and mischief yet unborn.
Her hair is the blonde of innocence, her eyes are a sunny blue.
Her movements filled with a studied grace and promises untrue.
She wears her heart upon her sleeve, but that heart is a lie;
She wears her spirit in her eyes, and for it grown men vie.
There's a darkness growing in her mind that no light can disperse.
There's an anger hiding inside her that all her sins rehearse.
There's a twist within her smile bright that no one yet has seen.
There's a wickedness within her eyes, a foul and vicious sheen.
For there are scars upon her soul that no herb found can heal;
She will not see that any life besides her own is real.
Rating: PG
Summary: Yvonne as a girl.
Date: Halloween 1975.
Notes: I... don't even know. It started as a prose piece, then became a sonnet and now it's half that and half a Babylon rhyme. idk. Enjoy.
Her dress is the red of blood, fresh blood, and her skin as white as cream.
She has painted the nails on her hands and feet a shiny lacquered green.
Green for the poisoned apples and the sky before a storm.
Red for the blood that's spilled this night and mischief yet unborn.
Her hair is the blonde of innocence, her eyes are a sunny blue.
Her movements filled with a studied grace and promises untrue.
She wears her heart upon her sleeve, but that heart is a lie;
She wears her spirit in her eyes, and for it grown men vie.
There's a darkness growing in her mind that no light can disperse.
There's an anger hiding inside her that all her sins rehearse.
There's a twist within her smile bright that no one yet has seen.
There's a wickedness within her eyes, a foul and vicious sheen.
For there are scars upon her soul that no herb found can heal;
She will not see that any life besides her own is real.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-31 05:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-03 05:10 am (UTC)Thank you very much! I'm glad this works, and I love "pretty little package of twisted." Great phrase.