for the faint of heart

⇸ the mortal divine

the world wasn't ready for you.

i could tell that
in the way your lips
bloomed as red as sin
when every other girl was too occupied with dolls
and the novelty of training bras;
in the way your mama told other boys
to be careful around you
because you were
more likely to break their hearts
than they yours;
in the way your papa fended off men (grown men!)
who found you to their fancy
and wanted you for their own.

the world wasn't ready for you.

you were a freak of nature
born in a tempest raised in a storm
a culmination of all things horribly
wicked and divine on this earth ―
carve the robes from the flesh
of the ground and i suppose
it is only fitting
that you don them with the grace of
a girl whose roots lie in a dying bloodline.

the world wasn't ready for you.

you spat fire and raised hell
just because you could
broke more hearts than i had
fingers and toes
dripping red from your mouth
in the sunlight it glinted
and we could all pretend it was ichor
so that it was justified in the way
the world treated you:
like a goddess
with dirty hands grabbing for
just a gleam of that
well sought after gold ―

the world wasn't ready for you.

the world was not kind
in the way that you deserved
and for that, i am truly sorry.

✧ ✧ ✧

july 1, 2016.