United Kingdom

perpetual state of confusion
probably procrastinating
nothing is real
have a good day

Message to Readers

Based on the character Blanche from Tennessee Williams' play 'A streetcar named desire'

The ballad of Blanche Dubois

May 6, 2021


A moth is a born Icarus;
Watch the soft brown gentle falling wings 
Flailing fire with seething ignorance 
Down to the resting place of kings    

Drown death in sweet white wine, too soon
Lie in hot water till the bubbles, pure white
Evaporate and the silence sings of a paper moon
And for godsake my moth, stay out of the light  

Stay out of the-  

Laugh at the flames that lick your chest
If this is a witch burning I guess you're the witch
If this is a trial, if this is some kind of test 
You'd rather wear ivory jewels and a golden stitch  
Across your temple, where your birth right should be-  

Drown your sorrows in cherry soda
Caress your white skin, the skin you sold
And dream of being the mona
Lisa, and never growing old  

If you could trap your face in canvas like 
Grey I think you would but-  

Your mind is rotting gently, gently
To the sound of polka music in the night
The clouds are so white you turn grey with envy
Find yourself tangled in trees like a broken kite  

Free yourself and fly, fly away moth-
Oil slick denim pulls at your wings
Tumble from a dream to an ironic hell
A tragic display of each of your sins 
Limbs broken, distorted where you fell 
A moth is a born icarus 
And Icarus never flies away safe 
No matter how many times the tale is told   


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  • May 6, 2021 - 7:26am (Now Viewing)

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