"Come, come m'dear
No one ever went
Anywhere
Through tears,
Except...
Perhaps
By drowning."
How she hated that mocking voice.
How many times had she,
Imagined clawing
Those eerie mismatched eyes.
First the amber one,
Never did it seem
To even once stay still.
Then,
That bloody violet eye
Never did it blink.
To tear out his copper hair.
Then she would wipe,
That smile of his red, red lips
Stained by mercury-tainted blood.
To smear his warm
And crimson blood
Across
Both ashen skin
And velvet cloth.
But she only raises her head
Sitting in her place
And lifting her chine tea cup
To hold before her face
Watches him
Over the rim
As he stares back
Smirking
Beneath the brim
Of a 10/6 silk top hat.
I know the Mad Hatter has a felt top hat but silk sounded better