Southern Gothic

We are pretty. And tragic.

All Southern girls have secrets

We carry them in our pockets

Like snapped twigs

Bits of broken hearts

And stolen whispers

 

We haunt the hollows

Eyes large in hungry faces

A wisp of light flickering

Gone between the ridges

As the evening turns

 

We are dusk and shadow

The name on your tongue

You refuse to say

The memory of pain

That will not rise

The something borrowed that

Becomes the something blue

 

We are the graves no one visits

The lost no one mourns

Slipping in and out of your arms

Like a half remembered song

 

You catch a glimpse

In the distance

Breathe in the chill

Of old ghosts and burned out homes

When the leaves fall

You see me there

 

A girl in a red coat

Crying

Among the trees

 

-Zoe Richardson 

Author's Note

Thank you for spending time on my words!

Reviews

[LostSage]

this is really really good and you know it don't play coy with me darling when the air turns chill and the leaves start to fall I will look into the woods for a sweet girl in a red coat I will see you I promise I will come and get you

[Zoe Richardson]

You don't have to come get me, although that is a very sweet impulse. It is enough to be seen, and recognized!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

The red coat...the lonely heart crying...the tears of blood.
I feel the reconstruction here after the war...I also see a woman trying to reconstruct her life after love
has burned it up...
Beautiful, haunting write.
j.

[Zoe Richardson]

southern women have a legacy that is equal parts tragedy and beauty. That's why we are so interesting! Its also where we find our strength. Thank you for your kind comments, and your time. They mean so much!