An Ode to Muses to Melpomene

Possessive Phantom

Use my body as a shield.

I'll arch my back, as I am penetrated with shattered glass.

You solely know my missionary profile,

While my spine is scarred with reflections.

Let me hang myself on the ceiling before the day christens me,

As I swing from this theatre

And call me a crystal ornament,

Your beloved chandelier.

My hands are pinned with strings instead of nails,

While you act as all three fates,

Yet fail to catch me from the perpetual trampoline.

I ponder if you feel the emptiness of my nightmares as I lay between your arms,

The bridge between lightning and performance,

Or realize that my alcohol-stained mattress is sculpted from ice.

I ask if you recognize the other half of my face,

Before you drift asleep eternally on my soul.

You try to feed me with the fruit of your devotions,

As I watch them rot under candlelight,

And fail to turn into wine.

I find it endearing how you attempt to save me,

Pick me up with bloody hands,

Kiss me with cracked lips,

And caress me with callus instead of supple skin.

I fear this is an obsession that grows fonder with each passing aria,

An intensity left in drunk malnourishment and masochistic tendencies.

We attempt to sing in key,

Leaving me asking who you are without our voices in harmony.

Lacking the same love language,

Lyrics get lost in translation.

As my heart pumps blood into my crooked smile,

Serenade me with the sound of your breath,

My little piece of heaven.

I pray to our shared God to be your peace.

I still doubt you read my script.

Otherwise, I'd be reciting instead of writing.

Though you say you love me,

I wonder if I share a name with someone else,

Making me the understudy.