Strange Fruit Poems

She held herself together with a stitch,
a disposable thread
for one day only.
...

The wet mist coated her hair
forming dew drops on each strand.
Clutching the wall she sat on,
white knuckles on each hand.
...

You asked me why I chew my fingernails.
You looked at my fingers in disgust,
as though they'd been amputated
and replaced with snakes
...

Is it not good to be different?
Is it not an asset to be your own?
Is it bad to be an individual?
Or do you have to live life as a clone?
...

Pretty face, butter wouldn't melt.
Evil is hidden beneath her chastity belt.
Dig deep, smell her soul
taste her blood; sour.
...

...an unintentional untruth,
yet a deliberate falsification.
A hidden evil force
waiting patiently to
...