Beehive

Blushing petals on translucent skin

sting with the force of a thousand bees.

Scratching on translucent skin,

like an angry swarm.

The bees are stinging

in transparent drops of an internal ocean.

Those blushing petals on translucent skin

shine with the tears of an angry swarm.

Without rhyme,

without reason,

attacking like an angry swarm,

provoked at the slightest thought.

"Why?"

ask closed minds.

"Why is your skin raw?"

they say, oblivious to the angry swarm.

Her smile is broken,

beautiful as half a porcelain doll.

"I don't know,"

she whispers.

-Persephone