Princess Buttercup

Behind porcelain skin, the cold shadows intertwine, I weep crimson pitty for a soul that was mine. With midnight creeping down my hollow frame, The gnarled, gilded thickets shriek out your name. ​Look deep in my chest—no heart beats inside, Only dead, moonlit woods where the lost spirits hide. A fog-shrouded grave where your memory rots, Enwreathed in black vines and poisonous knots. ​Do you recall playing cards in costume that night? Now I deal hands of bone by a sickly green light. The Ace of Hearts carved from your torn, bloody skin, A masquerade game that we neither can win. ​My lips drip dark as tar, my pale throat chokes on dust, My red tears of blood stain the gold veil with rust. You thought you escaped me, but shadows draw near— I’m coming to pull you forever in here. #Bionicanadian midnight creeping #FoxProse playing cards in costume