Rohypnol Rubies

finish line close enough to see,
dazzling in the distance
emerald dreams
sprung,
fully-loaded,
from a teenage heart,
opened to bleed
at the slightest touch.
grass stains smeared
amongst gingham
while she struggles
until you hold her
down,
pushed,
hard,
back to earth—
the poppies rising high,
lullaby drug
while her eyes blink
into bright sky,
left foot—
a rohypnol rubied twitch.
mumbled lips
wishing for snow
that never comes.

***

Technicolor Dream

mother says
the shoes
they must be sturdy.
tan laces,
lug soles,
they go with everything.
my eyes land on red—
sparkled gems,
my dazzled eyes
beg silent,
a thumb brush touch
and wistful sigh.
dreams we can’t afford
a world locked tight
inside flickering light—
once a year,
an evening disruption.
black and white traded
for color, exploding into
Technicolor cacophony—
red shoes,
green skin,
yellow bricks,
celluloid tricks.
when the siren sounds
we head underground,
while everyone ducks
and tucks, hold tight!—
i sneak back to hold
my bedpost as the
curtains blow through
windows, a real Kansas
freight train wind,
my feet naked
and prepared
for shoes we can’t afford.

***

Judy, Too

Blue birds fly while
Dorothy sings
rainbow songs.
Wrapped gingham tight,
wallpapered perfection.
Sneaking malted milks,
more alterations.
Too old and fat
for silver screens.
Cheeks pinched pink,
shame disguised as naivete
beauty masquerade.
Oh Judy, not you, too—
you’re not in Kansas
.                 — you never were.

***

Juliette van der Molen is a writer and poet living in the Greater NYC area. Her work has also appeared in Rose Quartz Journal, Burning House Press, Memoir Mixtapes and in various other publications. You can find more of her writing at Medium and connect with her on Twitter @j_vandermolen. Her debut chapbook, Death Library: The Exquisite Corpse Collection, was published in August 2018 by Moonchild Magazine.