The Whisper Girl

by Silky Threat

She sits straight,
Legs crossed and clenched,
Knuckles tight and drenched.
Thunderous she laughs.
Blue diamond flash and wink.
Too large smile, crow’s feet grin.
Not whole, a hairline spider vein crack
Longer, sharper, bitter.

Her skin, layered upon layered
Smoothed and pulled tight.
Jester mask.

The thickened break hidden and unbidden.

Lips licked once, twice, pursed.
Licked again.

Settles.
A plush velvet silent alarm.
Framed in soft and silken.

She speaks, not possible to not hear.
Not sweetly. Too loud. Too loud.
Her lungs suck in huge and hard.
Lashes soak in crayon tar.
Worried, face to face with the girl in the glass.

Tumbled, wooden words drop.
Too many.
Ink tears slide down porcelain cheeks.
Too many.

No one can hear.
Too loud.
Too loud.
They sit, one finger pressed against face.
Asks for silence.
They wait.
She whispers.
They pretend they heard.
She pretends it matters.