Museum of Mourning

by Maria Corcoran

Ocean of silent, aching desires
Drowned before even taking form
Guiltless, carried to the pyre
Snuffed and swallowed, not yet born

O lulling waves of strangled dreams,
Why do you refuse to die?
Trying even now to be heard, be seen
From below the depths wherein you lie

With your unclosing eyes full of blame,
Every gurgled breath you heave,
Ties me a knot borne of your pain
You wish to take me as you leave

You, every dream never dared dreamt
A drop in this vast cemetery
Your revenge is your lament
A cruel memoir of what I’ve buried

Sharp-edged guilt, bleeding grief
Your torment is mine to keep
Unintended sweet deceit
My regrets are your motifs

Is this your oath,
Either drive me mad
Or kill us both?

Perhaps it is a fitting end,
Succumbing to these rooted wounds
That I will, you will never mend
Turning inside out, self-exhumed

Quiet rage, quiet torment
Undeclared indictment

Punishment for what I’ve done—
A dictated requisite crime—
To be forever on the run,
For a choice that wasn’t mine

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Maria Corcoran, also known as the Girl in the Moon, is a poet with no past. Inspired by classical gothic literature, her work is theatrical and a touch unworldly. She enjoys traditional and rhyming verse, and writes mainly about delirious, wayward daughters and faceless strays. At present, she is crafting a collection that captures her morbid fascination with madness and decay—​a narrative set in the heart of a sinister, vanishing circus.