The Girl With The Dragon's Blood

these words cannot be uttered, 
they wish to slip drip
from in between my sewn up mouth, 
twisting into knotted snakes
they slither hither tither
up and down and around my neck.
gasping for air
but the air’s dry
cracking as i’m grappling
this mountain of unsaid things, 
of the forbidden. 
it stings like a bee,
buzzing around me, 
evening out the silent tone
begrudgingly clawing at my withering bones. 
frail, upon reddened earth, 
hidden and frozen
in a time unbeknownst
to the sun, 
to the warmth of a chastened grin,
striking like lighting knives that cut
through the bullshit,
but i
cannot see much further than my nose
because the knowing cannot be known
to the girl with the dragon’s blood
with the blackened name
with the poisoned tongue
whose life shouldn’t be lived
alive, and she dies
just a little more
knowing that she knows so much more
than what her eyes can see, 
knowing that she knows that she is
like a curse, maimed and sprawled, 
a skeleton chained to the abyss of a shadow
that casts upon the steeple
of a bed of stone.
coldness scaling the unnamed forsaken
lips that can only wish
to speak their darkness
to spread their realness
their wounded rawness
that escapes
that wilts
that sleeps
in the hands of wordless