Day: Aug 9, 2022

We celebrate the stars and their mystical ways,

Then twist the blade as soon as someone disobeys.

The glimmer in my eyes looks a lot like Saturn’s rings.

I spin my red pupils as the Moon spreads its wings.

My followers bow low to the pink cotton candy sky,

And I chant loudly, begging destiny for an alibi.

The wind twirls my long skirt into the Milky Way

As I lower my bejeweled head in a modest display.

We pray to the gods like they don’t live among us,

Then turn our tongues and call other people fungus.

But you do what you have to, I am the prophecy.

I will fill your cup with venom and watch you bleed.

-Jackie