Worthless

The devil of my very own,

Destroyer of all things I build,

With just one one word

To say to me,

“Worthless”,

/

Sat on a throne of my broken bones

Wearing a crown

Of my lifeless dreams,

Immovable like a love-less heart,

And truth-less;

/

I laughed – he bared his fangs and sneered:

“Worthless”, he said, and something died

Dimming the light, which tried to shine

In me, but ultimately failed,

Always;

/

I cried – he cupped his hands and drank

My pain, grinning, licking his lips;

“Worthless,” he sighed, “worthless and weak,”

And stamped my mind

With bite-shaped bruises;

/

He stole each kindness I’d been shown,

Made a reproach out of each word of praise,

Crushed every petal of each flower

I had been given,

Sharpening their thorns;

/

In every mirror which I passed

He painted vileness untold,

“Worthless,” they echoed, “wicked and worthless,”

“A demon, just like him,”

“A monster!”

/

And every victory of mine

He made feel like an ugly loss,

Screaming into my ears, “you’re worthless,

No matter what you f***ing do!”

“You’re worthless!”

/

For years I listened and agreed,

And on my knees before his throne

Believed the lies his voice would speak

Echoing cunningly

My ignorance;

/

“Enough,” I interrupt, today,

“I am no more the little girl

Into whose heart one night you slithered,

And in whose mind

You built your stronghold;”

/

“I am no monster, I’m no demon;

No matter what the blind see in me;

I am not worthless, I’m not weak;

For your lies and tricks

I’ve gown too big;”

/

“I’ll neither blame you nor forgive you

For the way that I have lived:

You came because I let you in, and beat me

For I let you beat me in each battle, but the war

You cannot win – such is the Nature’s law.”

/

 I rise, and pick up from the ground

My heart, my mind, my tears, my laughter;

And with the sword of gold I hold,

I slay the king of the hell I thought of

As me,

/

And for the first time ever,

Breathe in

The Habit

I have to ask you

Not to ask me

If it hurts –

/

Pain has become

Less of a feeling

And more of mere word;

/

It walks me home,

It sleeps with me

And holds my hand

/

Keeping at bay

The creeping fear

That I have nothing left;

/

You say I seem

To love my pain;

I wish that this was true;

/

What’s true’s that all I ever wanted

Hurt, challenged,

Broke or bruised me;

/

You see, I wasn’t

Made to live

The dreams of greater men,

/

And this was why

I had to make

A habit out of pain

 

Dance Away

At the deep end of my eyes
There burns by the river a pyre;
In her crumbling bed, wrapped in smoke,
She lies,
While the flames
Dance away;
/
They burn off her skin every hope
And dream,
Which had kept her chest
Rising;
Oh, they must have been dazzling,
For the flames dance and dance!
/
Close your eyes, rise and twirl,
Little girl, burning girl;
Let the world say she’s crazy,
But I call it amazing
She can forget she’s dead,
And dance

At the Station

I have to go –

The air outside is getting cold and lonely;

I hear the call

Of somewhere ineffably remote; the doors of glass

Have closed

/

What you may have to say

No longer matters – I’ve unlearned to listen,

To speak, to touch, to love, to hope

To miss this that I never held but an illusion of,

Fragile and fleeting

/

The train

Is quickly gaining speed, like fire

Flying,

Flying,

Flying;

/

Snow flakes –

My tiny frozen dreams – are falling lower

Down,

Down,

Down

/

I will not see them

Settle on the barren winter ground; watch them

For me, while I am gone,

Gone,

Gone