Invisible Girl

Like a Marrog through the looking glass, stuck somewhere veiled between 

Two worlds, the virtual and reality but neither see, hear, need or notice me 

My essence long since dissipated as silvered ash upon the breeze

In debris’ cloak, I‘ve learned to hide myself, made of stanzas’ of fallen leaves 

I'm in the corner, in the backdrop, in that seat behind the door 

Not in the closet’s land or the attic as my feet don't touch the floor 

I am spinning in a vortex, on a mercury cyclone’s downward decline 

I'm a flightless bird on a hot tin roof, under threat from frayed power line 

I am dead without a gravestone; my own reflection I don't recognise

I am a torn, tossed, tattered tissue, I’ve myself come to despise 

I am the stutter in the ellipses; I am the saddened sigh in text’s empty space 

I'm behind a pendulum of exclusion; now a mere clock where once was my face 

I am choking on a taunting future that I know will not be done on earth

I am contemplating urns of earthenware or where to place me in the dirt

This is my reality, a clockwork helicopter-powered, fast-running clock 

Or am I indeed in the virtual, where the clock hands long since stopped? 

I whisper on the winds of wishes, plead and pray Time will pause, retreat 

Although I know, he is a cruel dictator and stamped on my heart is already ‘DEFEAT’

The truth is, I'm now more Cheshire Cat than the Alice I once was 

And I'm often only visible to those who, in my words, still look 

When your words become the only thing that stands, you’re often overlooked 

When your verses are the only part of you that beats with steady drum; 

you find you douse yourself in metaphors and set passed similes alight 

You use the stars as stepping stones, towards moonlight’s laddered light 

So please think of me, the invisible girl, and you’ll help me manifest; 

because I'm bleeding out into oblivion and I can't take much more of this 

I'm turning into Pinocchio and yet I promise you

I've been good

I was once like you, a free real life-loving girl, but

now I turn to wood

So please see me in the screens' static forest or

in the shadows you step on

As for now, I'm bowed-headed and red-hooded

to the wolf, my life's become

But one day I will be your moonshine, the

sunlight's milk in your breakfast bowl

And I'll rage against the darkness with starlight's

blanket; Kintsugi shield, now gold

For the lonely and the damaged, through their

cracks, light radiates

They're the candle in terror's corners and fresh

air of untouched space

Mosaics arguably have more wisdom from hurt's

horrors' lessons learned

So by acknowledging our existence not only we,

but this broken world could mend.

© Debbie Razey - Violet Moon Poetry 2022

Rose

Peeling back petalled layers of a marbled mind 

What would they find in her cobwebs of time... spinning?

Splintering, her porcelain, chipped veins burst with stars 

Once illumined luminary now seeps through cracks

Stacked debris; her Luddite axe, bludgeoned own will 

Sanguine lipstick distracts from her black and blue mind

Her libertine cursed dream, still singing on repeat

Beneath, her gentle pastel powder hues of hope 

.

We only see her, the painted, not the painter

No more than, soiled rancid rag, masterpiece mistook 

Cut, squeezed, spread thinly on paint’s palette; butcher’s block

Her regrets and blood still imbrued upon their hands

Fragranced sacrifice sheds herself; flagellation 

Fine creases, chain-mailed lattice, she fills with french blanc

Madonna’s poised pose, her armoured ashen facade 

Thumbed and burned at edges, she's jaded, played last card 

.

Elfin, her beauty and her wisdom’s willowed tears 

Adorned in white rusting roses, her heart’s graveyard

Commemorating, decorating her soul’s graves

Each she diligently dug, for herself, by hand

Slowly, she's unfurling; overstretched rubber band 

Barred gateways to soul, her emerald eyes; fly traps

Piece by piece, she’s stuck each mulched mosaic tile back

Hindsight’s sad, smile... buttonhole rose never again 

© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry