to a high degree, Dalmation guarding doors
toss a juicy steak to occupy his jaws and slide
inside, feet pattering soft like any ballerina does
like a dance with no audience, swinging your body
into a dead-silent house, you want to reach her, his
living doll. Not sure what your plan is once you do,
kidnap this macabre creation or kill it before it can
destroy you, your allure once seemed enough but you’ve
come to realize, he never wanted you, it was always her.
He keeps her in the sunroom which reflects moonlight
piercing beams straight to your heart. Creep across to
darkened dollhouse; one ring of light shimmers
in the center like a beating heart, or sliver of moon.
upstairs in a Victorian draped bedroom lies the shrunken
ballerina, perfect as ever even 10x less her size.
Creak of floorboards alerts too late, you’ve barely caught a
glimpse before you feel him, sinister shadow crawling overtop -
you are in his sights, bullseye, your heart tremors knowing
he could kill you in an instant or shrink you down to
mousetrap size - you’ve heard tales of a wizard who could
capture mermaids in a globe of glass
Who could turn men into starfish without a thought.
Dark magic curls its finger at you, beckons alluring and seductive -
you hear him calling to you, he is below…
you turn from the dollhouse, tiny dancer dreaming
anything but peaceful, tossing and turning in a miniature world.
Follow his dark pull through halls, black and blind. Reach
for something to grasp, nothing — entering a black hole.
Feet hit stairs, he calls you to join him, below,
beneath the earth, a secret cavern belching from
the house’s belly and why are you surprised a wizard’s
home has a mind of its own? your body automatic heads
down, smell of earth and…
dead dreams reside here.
A glimmer off glass in one corner of the room,
walls close around you - Congested, cobwebs
wrap you like film around thin arms, claiming
your ability to dance for their own.
This darkness is a human, breathing, beating heart
and you are now a basement dweller, door
closes above behind you, fear you will
never see the light again.
You will never see the light.
Tianna G. Hansen has been writing her whole life. You can find her published works on or check her out on Twitter @tiannag92. She founded Rhythm & Bones Press in 2018 and continues to work for progressing the idea of turning trauma into art. Find them at or on Twitter @RhythmBonesLit.