II. A Game of Chess (Stanza 1)

The Chair she sat in, like a lonely throne,
Ebony legs met chestnut floor, glowing
By solemn candlelight, shadows in a dance,
Circling, changing with every flicker,
Her diamonds reflecting their own light.
Shadow puppets from sterling silver, cast iron, twenty four carat gold,
(They had more life than her.)
She saw herself in the glass cover of the cabinet,
Saw her sunken eyes and the dancing around her,
Saw her plants, her powders, her pills,
Saw the smoke form the joint between her skeletal fingers
join the smoke of the candles,
Saw the scars on the walls and remembered her broken promise—
troubled, confused
And drowned the sense by inhaling; forgetting.
Suddenly everything became brighter, louder.
Reds burst from the sides of her well-worn nails,
Bitten to the core, she swore she could see her bones,
Bare and white as her hollow skin.
In the sad light her skeleton danced,
All alone
But beautiful,
Moving to no music.
She looked to the window and was reminded of her emptiness.
She surrendered to the Poseidons of her eyes,
She let herself drown
She drowned in her throne
She was the queen, she was every color.
Silence screamed form her desperate mouth
She swallowed all the darkness,
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
“Quiet, girl,” from crooked teeth,
Tracing curves of her silhouette
The shadows teased and tickled.
She felt the heat of the candles, she burned,
She tore out her hair and watched it burst into flames,
Her skin fell as ashes.
The throne was empty, the room still.