stitched_up_mew (stitched_up_mew) wrote in free_verse_poet,
stitched_up_mew
stitched_up_mew
free_verse_poet

Dream Queen

I kiss the glass,
And feel the cold
I tear open my heart
The ill and the weary thing
Beats weakly, with a sorrowful resonance
And inside its ill-fitting cage
Weary water and tinged red milk
Move swiftly, lapping at the shallow shores of conscience
It is there, where you are
Queen of spiders and other killing things
The Witching Hour is your domain
And as frozen, gut wrenching breaths tear from my inner sanctuary,
I struggle to see a perfect forest of trees
In splintered glass and torn up paper
And like the foolish Prince
I ask
Is it to be?
And silence echoes my reply
"Hush now. Hush!
You'll only work up that sleeping beast
And only blood will tame this beast"
So I sit, waiting
And waiting
And waiting
Hoping for a reprieve of my own devising
Yet
My mind traps me
Like so many wolves and other horrid things
I dream
Oh lord,
Do I dream
Crying skies and drops of blood
And witches brews and mashed up bugs
And little girls and full grown men
"Stop!"
She screams, that evil queen
"You'll only make me cry!"
And to give into her would be the birthing of new light
But I refrain, I hold back
And I allow her a moments silence
To mourn the pretty princess gowns
And little tiaras made of thorns
And pink gloves of cult thoughts
Then I bid goodbye,
Like I have before
And exit through my dreaming's door
And let out the musty air
That choked my lungs and made me gag
Then I'm here again
I'm lonely and defeated and torn limb from limb
I hate, I beg
I feel myself caving in
Back to me, the Ugly Beauty
And when I wake
I will wish to dream,
Evermore,
And though I'm far off now,
I promise
I will return
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