Paige Nielsen Poems

Burning on the outside,
burning within.
Flame replaces ice and is thrust
animalistically
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exordium:
H.P. Lovecraft’s heretic pride.
She is suffering,
a girl disappearing into the thorns
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Circular orbs feverish with glint,
blesséd blue and a pinprick of black,
Small details across from me
over the coffin in which she lies.
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I’m without a name,
faceless, faithless,
a myth unremembered through
the dawning sands of time—
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Writing these words,
Ever so quietly,
While a war goes on
In my head.
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Don’t trust me; I’m a fox
Raised in hate by a cold father
And I can’t seem to get a grip
Can I kill, take innocent human life?
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My heart has run away.
I think you stole it.
There’s some raw hole in my chest that
I can’t seem to mend,
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Sinuously sloshing in a crystal chalice,
This green venom resembles unholy lust.
Pours into a golden cup, (aurum est potestas)
She’s beckoning me, now.
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Sitting cross-legged in the bathtub,
I commune.
My inner nature? Or some arcane
Goddess of the moon?
...

Fragmentary soul,
Expressed in poetic form.
An express love letter,
A call to arms—
...