A Medusa Queen

Cords of her hair rolls themselves together,
slitted eyes appear,
and split ends become vicious teeth, and forked tounges.
Every thought in her head is a twisting python,
writhing to get away from the tangled threads of her brain.

But the royals must be composed.
Collected.
The outsider's wouldn't know of the agony,
of the Russian queens
who locked themselves in their ballrooms.
Screaming, and dancing, dancing to no music.
Spinning with hearts in their throats,
and diamonds in their mouths.
The ancestors of this snake queen.

Everyone seems blind to the heart on her satin sleeve.
How quickly it beats.
How scared it is to fail.
She escapes to ice marble floors,
cobweb curtained chandeliers and long dirty windows,
that hide her from those outsiders.
The outsiders she wishes could reach her.
And yet stone flows through their veins
at the very thought.

Lost amongst a sea of frozen statues,
she never stops dancing.