My Instagram
Is becoming a collection of corpses
Lovers past 
Lovers un-future-d
Lovers removed from the present  

I, bone witch, collect all of these mutual rejections 
Spread their ashes in a closet of
/I might see you in public/ discomfort 

My nails tap the windows
of this virtual mausoleum
block and mute buttons
 my cape decorated by a beautiful barrage
heart beating deaths and agitated spirits  

I make rituals out of you,
uncounted almosts
turned cord cutting ceremonies of never 

Restricted entry to this public profile 
Vampires, hoping to drain me, a bite/a post, 
a way inside my psyche
My pride/ a burning ray of petty sunlight
I envision
putting a stake through their heart
/instead/ - I am the one who feels the stab

Inject you with silence, 
you pierced into me 
all the letters typed burn into withering skeletal messages 
Your ludus is bold font
ready to be erased in every mention
 of what didn’t, what wasn’t, and what we won’t do

These ghosts
howl with their ego,
ignorant to my no longer giving flowers to a dead horse,
a ride I cannot get to never never land with 

NO
a sigil to protect myself
 against the all of this debauchery of roaming souls

These ghouls - attempt to haunt me as if 
I do not know how to return them back to their nothingness  

They wish to repossess me
like I wasn’t demon first -
 finding my way back through my ancestors, my coven, my guides. 

I died first,
in all this disappointment.
Made it a 6 ft deep profile 
of smiles and poems that
Could never reach the shallow bits of your possibilities   

Trying to gain entry into my subconscious 
when I have alt-deleted, archived, and reset all of the entry ways to this sacred tomb 

I wish you rest and peace- but not in this 
Graveyard of sunflowers 

Lysz Flo is a, trilingual spoken word artist, author of fiction and poetry, member of The Estuary Collective, and podcast host of Creatively Exposed who released her poetry novel Soliloquy of an Ice Queen.