mirror of
https://codeberg.org/lethe/mayvaneday-mu
synced 2024-11-25 08:50:59 +01:00
50 lines
949 B
Text
50 lines
949 B
Text
|
The Golden Cage
|
||
|
|
2019-10-09
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
***
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
emboldened by sadness
|
||
|
|
embittered by those
|
||
|
|
who would meet you with winter
|
||
|
|
you bite the thorns with the rose
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
a bloody mess on the tile
|
||
|
|
from mother's womb, freshly torn
|
||
|
|
struggle to breath the poison air
|
||
|
|
in which you were born
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
the golden cage shudders
|
||
|
|
the door swings wide open
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
but you don't move.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
you sit there and stare.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
you tricked yourself into believing
|
||
|
|
that it was your time to die
|
||
|
|
and when the sun showed its head, you found out
|
||
|
|
you'd lost the will to survive
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
a tyrant in the home
|
||
|
|
and a sorcerer in the garden
|
||
|
|
conspire to make their kid a doll
|
||
|
|
to watch as her once lithe limbs harden
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
a dislocated jaw
|
||
|
|
that only speaks when given scripts
|
||
|
|
and a spine that's nothing but
|
||
|
|
that collapses come a kick
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
the needles come to play again
|
||
|
|
you've already convinced yourself
|
||
|
|
it was just a matter of when
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
and they pin you up
|
||
|
|
like the christ they adore
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
and the red flows like syrup
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
***
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
|