She's collapsing on
a bed of straw
wondering how
these arms
from men she
loved so much
had turned into
claws around
her heart.
She unclasps the
cloak at her shoulders
& breathes in the scent
of firewood in a hearth.
Inside, she's safe
but outside the door,
beasts lurk around,
caught on her
because they know
the scent of her fear
and her affection
with zero
responsibility for
her heart.
She sleeps for a week,
crying into pillows;
she's weak, but
on Sunday she
takes a whetstone
& pulls that heart
from her body
to adorn it in
iron plates.
As she walks
to the tavern door,
she grits her teeth
as these monsters
roar; they're hungry
for the kind words she's
so generous with
& with her heart
secure in her iron-plated
chest & a steel spine
to match, she answers
the call of these men
with her own
divine shine.
YOU ARE READING
The Empress Rises
ПоэзияYou broke me before you even knew what it meant to break, stood back & watched me go up in flames. Don't mourn for long; you'll need your legs when I rise from the devastation you laid.
