There is a place 

Some people see it as a barren rock 

Riddled with cracks, and rifts large enough to fall through

The sky suffocating and dark as smoke 

The rock ends in a cliff 

that leads to darkness 

A long way down 

And a splat.

 

But I see an endless meadow 

With hidden warrens and places to go. 

Where sometimes the ground will shatter into glass

And other times the air itself will hold me up 

Forming stairs to the stars. 

 

This place has many doors

There is one disguised as a needle

Pass through the eye 

And end up in hell. 

 

Nestled in an iceberg 

Where the ground swallows you whole 

Is a tree growing upside down

Its roots reaching up to the centre of the earth 

 

Here in a box lined with velvet 

Lies a girl 

Quiet now– she is sleeping 

Roses wrap around her

Thorns protecting her

And biting into her skin 

Petals make the soft place she rests her head. 

And count the question 

She loves me 

She loves me not 

She loves me (is always the final answer.)

 

The box is small

It fit on a table and was polished with love

It was not opened 

And so the girl did and did not exist

Like the cat

Until the cat was killed

 

If the box opens the girl dies

But if it remains closed she never lives

She sleeps and

I could wake her with a kiss

 

I would show her a sky filled with light

Not the fabric of her box. 

And she would show me the stars in velvet

Because she would have found their shape

Or made them. 

 

I know that if I brought her hedge trimmers

And cut the plant that made her bed, 

And offered her a hand to help her out 

She would not leave

 

Because her box is not locked

It is not six feet under

But six feet up

She could leave if she wanted to

 

Instead she stays

Forever bleeding slowly a red

That is the envy of her roses

She stays because she loves me

Or I like to think she does. 

 

I think one day the box will open on its own 

And she will be the one to kiss me

Before taking me onto her bed of roses

Or at least

I hope she does.

 

Pandora could not resist her charms

and I knew I would not be able to either

So I picked a spot 

By the tree with roots at the centre of the world

I put her coffin there 

And kept her warm with a blanket of dirt 

 

I carved her name on a stone 

From the end of time

So i would always know where to find her 

She is not dead, but feeding the tree

Whose roots keep the world together

 

Waiting either for me to dig her out

Or for the moon to give her the right light

To crawl out herself

 

When she does I know that she will find me

And give me one of her roses

 

When Hope leaves her grave 

The world will end

But I will finally get to kiss her

So who says

You can’t enjoy armageddon? 

 

There is a place 

Nestled in an iceberg in hell

Where the ground swallows you whole 

There is a tree growing upside down

Its roots reaching up to the centre of the earth 

It is here I dug a hole and placed her bed

Covered her in dirt to keep her warm 

And carved her name into a stone

So I could remember where she slept. 

 

I see this stone everytime I visit her

And give her the last petal of a rose

The words I carved deep into rock: 

 

“Here Lies Hope, 

From the beginning of time to the end”