Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

My Wake

In other realms,
A princess I could be.
Tiptoeing, delicate,
The scent of lilacs
Rising from my decolletage.
An enchantress,
Not a head case.
In other realms,
Perhaps I am real
And not a shadow
Dying to fit into
The dark room
That holds
All misfits.
Wired and chained
To  misfire at random.
The monsters
Are family;
The monsters are human,
Grasping at me,
Ripping me
To shreds.
Bloody and defeated.
Can't curl up
And forget away
This mistake...
I should be dancing
At my wedding,
Not dining at
My wake.

4-2-12


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My Wake

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