you meet me in shadows
you kiss me in the dark
you sit on your throne and narrate your woes
i am your confession stand
you tell me your sins and i hold your hands
and you take that as redemption
you tremble at the thought of crossing them
but drain me dry
what is in their blood that i don't have
why am i an altar of your wins
your sacrificial lamb
your crucified second thought
you have people you look up to and the people you look down at
i wanted to be beside you
i wanted to be with you and not of you
this husk of a body
this desolate vessel of mortality
was once a woman who had so much love it drove her mad
where is the love gone now
why is my love hiding in your chalice of rust
this is not me
this shouldn't be me
i have to get out
but i-
i locked myself in
i threw away the key
i built a fortress around me
when the winter ends and the sun melts this snow
when i find my key and unlock the door
i hope the pieces of me scattered round the floor
make me feel the rage i once ignored
YOU ARE READING
HYSTERIA
Poetryand i will ruin you for loving me. and you will love me for ruining you. an attempt to reclaim the madness that defines femininity
