You are my angel

A pale figure

With a face of cracked porcelain

A chipped nose and one glassy blue eye

Ripped downy wings that won't fly

Temperate and serene

Yet somber as you skip across a rainbow

Long fingers with bulbous knuckles

Ravaged nails

And pierced through your hands

Sharp stakes that splinter

And whisper of butchery

Yet you smile and dance

Almost a pirouette on broken feet

A gaunt figure in an ivory skirt

You are anarchy in your insurrection

Not pious but fiendish while cloaked in innocence

You are almost elegant

Almost a dowdy figure

You are my angel