(Sc)avenger-Malicia Frost/Malicia’s Malebolge

Malicia's Malebolge

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second-hand girl,
how brave she must be
to face her enemies
hands bound behind her back
a rusty lantern levitating before her
setting her eyes ablaze.
don’t let the halo fool you.
She’s no martyr
nor saint
She’s not heaven sent
or divinely gifted.
she will not knock on your door
and ask your permission
she will make you
pour holy water into her wounds
while screaming in ecstasy,
stretching her hands up to heaven.

she doesn’t believe in god
she doesn’t believe in justice.
she falls asleep fantasizing about self harm
wrists that are opened and then sewn back together
she makes up these scenarios
not as a means of inflicting damage
but as a road to retribution

too long she’s been pushed aside
chopped into pieces and carefully sealed into
thrift shop bags
who wants to buy a sexy, self-destructive no-girl?
who would like to buy an unfinished…

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Sainted/Tainted

Malicia's Malebolge

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What to do with all this love drink it swallow it then vomit it up but don’t stain the carpet
What to do with all this pain cough it up so you can drink it again
All I ever learned was how to defend myself from others but not how to let go
I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it
No. Eat. Swallow. Tuck in my tears behind my eyelids, never let go
I smile, lipstick and lies and intestines gushing out from my mouth
You think I’m pretty, I’m a fucking monster
I’ll eat you, I’ll eat them, I’ll devour you all
I’m all oozing wounds and ichor inside
Perverse satisfaction and self disgust and I’ll love you,
oh I will,
not as a human but as an abyss
I will never let go and
I’ll keep you safe and I’ll let you drink me
and what to…

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Teratophilia

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Drawing (c) Malicia Frost // Henna Sjöblom

 

I never wanted your understanding
All I need is a mouth
someone who roars louder than me
someone who grabs first and asks not
whether I’m enjoying it
to block out
my own desires
I have chosen to love the monster
I did not ask for it,
still
I think I’m quite comfortable in here

Being bitten is painful and familiar
I collect his teeth as trophies
like soldiers stacking bullets around their necks
like we used to compare our scars
in middle school
“I think he’s getting more violent,” you whispered
and shivered in terror and ecstasy
over the thought of getting torn apart
at the dinner table that night

Now,
my skin has become a topographic map of wars
that were never recorded in history
My anxious fingers wander up to his jawline
and starts deciphering
where the next impact will strike
so that I might pull my shirt up
make sure it hits the spot
to make me see stars, nebulae bruises
flashing before my eyelids
And it doesn’t matter that he is all teeth
and no bones
I always found it easier
to love the wound
rather than the person inflicting it

 

[Malicia Frost, or Henna, is a hobbyist writer and an aspiring novelist from Finland. She enjoys surrealism, sci-fi and horror, and her works often deal with mental illness. The drawing is from her sketchbook, a place she likes to illustrate her thoughts. More of her works can be found at her personal blog.]

Miscarriage – Malicia Frost/Malicia’s Malebolge

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

the_monster_gets_out_by_raidon_chan-d4sey5cBy Malicia Frost
https://maliciafrost.wordpress.com/

It’s all so much easier now
As blood is flowing down my thighs, I lean back on the hospital bed
The memory of you forcing your way inside me
Fading with the pain
I don’t care, I want everything out of me,
the twitching
the turning
the hope of a new life
bleeds out on the floor
I thought I could make something beautiful
out of my shame
tame my monster
into something people could look at
and appreciate
And I would forget
that I never wanted you in the first place
But it’s easier
being empty
filled with nothing
To give up half way there
Rather than experience the horror of birth
The possibility of you tearing me apart
From the inside
“Stay dead”, I whisper at the sweet nothing
deformed little fetus lying limp on the floor
between my feet
before I wipe away…

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Wardrobe-Malicia Frost/Malicia’s Malebolge

Malicia's Malebolge

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Let me show you my new dress.

It was cheap.
A disposable
wear and tear-article,
patchwork of crushed hopes
belonging to some little child
in a factory
you made this for me?
thank you!
truly!
now I can stand here, in the roaring crowd
at the eye of the town square
tiptoeing all over the sharp stones of existence
showcasing just how normal, stuck-up and
indifferent I am

But then I bled trough.
It happened quickly.
I didn’t even notice the tear in the fabric
until some kid pointed at my stomach and laughed.
“Look! She’s wounded! She can’t even walk!”
his mother hushed him, dragging him away from me
“We need to be grateful for all we have,” she said.

I scurried home,
tears pouring down my cheeks
I locked myself in my bedroom and spent the rest of the day
wrapping myself up in linens
layer…

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The Weyward Sisters: Songs of Ophelia A Collaboration from the Women of Sudden Denouement

you must remember

rosemary, pansies, fennel,

columbine and rue,

You forgot tansy, didn’t you?

When the ground freezes over

And your flowers crumble and brown

Let the ice in Hamlet’s Heart

And the Red on his hands

Deliver him forever from you.

And when you return again

From your journey to the sea

Never forget

It is you.

It was never he.

Rana Kelly/2nd star to the Left, straight on ’til morning

I sat and watched the current roll by today

I think I’d like to float away to a place that I cannot say

You were always directing the rivers flow

I trusted you knew where it would go

But you let me go adrift

Dream chaser isn’t that what you always said?

You’re where the love has always been

Dream chaser dream chaser

don’t mock me now

Its not always the same

You will find me in this life or the next floating down stream

Not a single memory left

Hannah Wagner/The Hero’s Inferno

from up here, the night is clearer.

she is closer to the sky.

the branches cradle her like a mother’s arm,

bouncing in the night’s distractions.

if she stretches high enough,

perhaps the summer breeze

will whip these leaves into a flurry,

and carry her,

perhaps she will join the path of stardust

and deserted dreams

to meet the star-girls

in their extra-terrestrial dance –

she longs,

yet the maternal clasp of mother’s chest

holds her fast,

with ropes of tears and blood.

Lois E. Linkens

Defined always

By men around me

Daughter

Sister

Virgin

Whore

Locked ever in memory

Who holds the keys

To my prison?

Descent into

Watery madness

Sink gracefully

Into welcoming embrace

I will become a mermaid

A siren

No room on dry land

In this man’s world

For a woman of pure heart

To break the mold

Break expectation

My fight floats away. . .

Christine Ray/Brave and Reckless

I don’t want to be surrounded by men anymore

I run, it is in vain, I go in circles

I wish mother would take me to the water

Imagine

A world without mothers

The world would fight in peace

He says it is over Ophelia

But

It’s never over

I tear this watch off my neck

I am sick of biology ticking

I am going to end the world

A woman doesn’t have the power they laugh

I will poison the milk that flows in me

I will take the planet between my breasts and watch it pop

The world will end

When there are no more mothers

Hannah Wagner/The Hero’s Inferno

Ophelia,

but unforgiving

stamping out of the water

a malnourished fetus dangling from her open womb

“Look what you have made me do!”

Ophelia,

but pestilent

tired of men knotting flowers around the slashes on her wrists

to make death look appealing

I’m Ophelia, except I didn’t die in a river

mouth full of seashells and eye-sockets full of mud

I’m Ophelia, alive, burning

blood on my knuckles and poetry scribbled over my palms

Hush, little boy, you tragic Hamlet imposter

I might be coming for you next

Malicia Frost/Malicia’s Malebolge

 

 

 

 

 

Slut-Malicia Frost/Malicia’s Malebolge

Malicia Frost/Malicia’s Malebolge

Malicia's Malebolge

it_doesn_t_matter_what_i_say____by_paintausea-dapeu71source

I took his saliva and distributed it evenly
over my soaring wounds
I was a harlot again
filthy consolation girl throwing my skin off
for anyone who as much as touched me

But they couldn’t know
what was going on behind my shut eyelids
They didn’t know of the man following me everywhere
Sitting on my shoulders
Sucking on my bruises

They didn’t know he was cruel
they never heard him yell into their heads
things they only speak of in hell
or lower elementary school

Neither could they know
our battle was a long fought one
while he built towers for me
I would sit there
like some fucking Rapunzel, awaiting a savior
or maybe just a momentary relief
a rough canoodle
behind the labyrinth of thorns
the moment
someone would come up to me and say
“hey. I like the things you do”
I would be stunned

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