Biography of Gabrielle Franchetti
She hears a sound in the darkest part of the house.
Her pulse quickens.
It is nothing, she tells herself-but is it really?
Why does she get up to inspect the possible intruder in the most cliche way?
She cautiously creeps towards the rustling sounds.
-And as expected; silence.
This word rustles the across the page.
The resting water by her feet xeroxing her form from the bottom up.
She hears a soulless breath from behind-spinning around
The portrait on the wall that had never been touched is now missing.
But why had it been taken?
Short phrases begin to rule the page with anticipation.
The explanation of this nonsense lying in wait, set to pounce on the blank page.
Are letters up to no good?
Will the girl suddenly be sought by the foe?
-Or is she having a nightmare?
What will happen, and how will these words attack the pen?
Each dropp of succubus black ink threatens to unleash its wrath upon the page, and settle the girls fate.
They thrash out with a fair supply of hunters, equipped with squinting eyes behind their sights.
-Prepared to swarm the slopping pen at any moment.
They forget that what's here is not life.
Their laws-black on white en-caged and enslaved.
The twinkling of an eye will take as long as I say.
I am their creator, but perhaps they have broken free.
-A LAST! they shall not control me.
And if I wish, divide the wall the foe's bullet will stop in mid flight before her-
-It shall happen.
Not a thing takes place unless I approve.
Without my blessing, not a dropp of sweat shall lick down her face.
Not an eye will blink
No hearts will break-
Until it leaves my pen.
Even if the ink grabs at it, they shall be connected to string.
Perhaps I have made them wait long enough
Perhaps I should give in
Placing the pen down, I watch as they seep from the paper
Interlocking arm to reach the wand that commands them.
Is there a world in which I rule absolutely on fate?
In which I bind with chains of twisting destinies?
The ravishment of writing
The power of manipulation
I am their creator
And they are my puppets
Gabrielle Franchetti Poems
Hide Your Heart
Stay away from the crimson flame sleep better now that your nerves are tamed Lay upon the roses wrapped in gold Keep your heart hidden like you were told
He comes in that day and you feel your stomach ache. You shudder and he shames and you wonder what you say. You know you must say something, but the words do not come. You been there before, and it's never undone.
She hears a sound in the darkest part of the house. Her pulse quickens. It is nothing, she tells herself-but is it really? Why does she get up to inspect the possible intruder in the most cliche way?
Hide Your Heart
Stay away from the crimson flame
sleep better now that your nerves are tamed
Lay upon the roses wrapped in gold
Keep your heart hidden like you were told
The peddles will steal your crimson blood
and hold it within their silky buds
Keep your heart safe and sound