Carella Keil
ALICE AND THE BIG BAD WOLF
Time is broken on my wrist
I spoke to Alice last night
She says she’s been chasing rabbits
I ran through a field of white white roses
Painted red. Thorns through my ankles
Wet dirt between my toes
Your bites still fresh on my neck
Sharp starlight broke beneath my feet
The moon grinned its Cheshire smile and
Bit me with jagged teeth
Scratch me, scratch me deeper
We’re painting the roses red
Time is broken on the wall
I ran through a field of roses
Into a room of hardwood floors and candles
Burning on a tall, tall table, Burning
In a room with no corners and
Walls for windows
A four-poster bed and
Cracks on the ceiling growing like vines
You lie naked like a King in your bed
The first time we met I was ten times taller than you
I had blood on my lips
And a taste for wild boys
I pinned you to the mattress
My green eyes like daggers
And took what I wanted And took
What I thought I needed
Ten times later and I’m ten times smaller while you’re ten times taller
Your room smells like rotted flowers
You say
Eat Me
Touch Me
Suck Me
Fuck Me
I hesitate, turn to the door
The door grows smaller and smaller each second I stare
I’m smaller and smaller each second I stay
Trapped like a rabbit with my foot in the snare
And so like a good girl I obey
Scratch me, scratch me deeper
We’re painting the roses red
I spoke to Alice last night
She says it’s a long way to fall
Down a rabbit hole
There’s a key on the nightstand and
My tears on your chest
There’s a clock on the wall and
Stale petals in your bed
Memories sift down on me like a pack of falling cards
I am your Whore of Hearts
Let’s shuffle. Let’s reshuffle again
Sex on the hardwood floor
There are cracks in the floor and cracks in a mirror
I am broken
Running on a pavement of crushed roses
Playing Grown-up games
The girl in the looking glass is not me. She’s Not Me
There’s a key in the mirror on the nightstand
And a girl in a pack of cards
Snubbed-out cigarettes, a roach a wineglass and melted candles
With black wicks
And Alice chasing rabbits
She says You’d better change your lock Girl
Stop letting the Jabberwocky in
*This poem was originally published by Querencia Press Fall 2022 and appearing as a visual poem in Querencia Press Not Ghosts But Spirits Vol.1
Carella is a writer and digital artist who creates surreal, dreamy images that explore nature, fantasy realms, portraiture, melancholia and inner dimensions.
She has been published in numerous literary journals including Columbia Journal, Chestnut Review, Wizards in Space, Anti-Heroin Chic and Mono.
Her writing was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and she is a 2023 Door is a Jar Writing Award Winner.
Her art has appeared on the covers of Glassworks Magazine, Nightingale and Sparrow, Colors: The Magazine, Frost Meadow Review and Straylight Magazine.
Follow Carella on IG: at @catalogue.of.dreams
Find more poetry from issue #1, available in print and digital.