I Wear My Pain Like Stilettos

Just when I think we’ve hit the razor’s edge,
that I can finally leave you, my heart aches,
my soul bends like a willow tree by the river,
I was a foolish Eve, to run from the serpent,
and though the archangels and I bind you from
doing harm, cleanse the Mem from your curse,
begin to wipe you from existence, obliterate
all succor you will ever find, my love drums
and the ceremonial sphere of banishment breaks
I run to the center where you are stretched out
in agony, pulsing with blinding supernovalight,
and all I do is hold you, I kiss you fiercely, I
never had a chance of not forgiving you, again
and again, and the Prince of Angels lowers his
burning sword, and it is just us in a sea of
white feathers, there is still goodness in you,
you are selfish, cruel, but you can bend too,
the apple tree whose boughs I sprung from, I
am Queen of Cups, you the repentant Devil, you
hold me to you like I am air twenty leagues
below any chance of redemption, your lifeline,
and I reel us back up to the surface of sanity,
my fault is I will always forgive you, in the
space of old attics where memories are collected,
yellowed pictures of life after life with you,
why I feel fondness for you, why I love our fights,
perhaps it is because I love pain, and you bring
bruises and sweetness like an overripe pear, I
wear my scars like stilettos, you my open wound
I am a bleeding heart Magdalene of seven demons,
but you are the king of my ruin, and my rebirth,
I always die in your arms to wake in the next life
and just when I think I have rid myself of you,
I come rushing back to soothe your night terrors
you will never deserve me, but I still love you,
thirst for you, you are my ultimate bane, and my
first lesson in quieting madness and monstrous
psychosis, and as we embrace in the maelstrom,
I know I could never leave you, though angry words
will always be hurled, I will always fight you,
you were my first love, my last ruin, and how
could a canary leave the coal mine she guards?
I love you, I care for you, and someday you will
not be the Scapegoat, Sael, not Samael, until then
I cleanse your snakeskins with lye, and I am Sigyn
in the pits of your dripping poison, Victory Woman,
Chain Breaker, I know magic now, I can tame you,
and finally, we are equals, and though I offer you
trinkets to beautify an ancient altar, I still need
time to grow, to find myself in phoenix born ashes
you my purifying flame and childhood bittersweetheart
I gather roses for you: I will only give you flowers
we are family, after all, and blood thicker than Styx
waters, you my shadow and id, Samael, please – be kind.

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6 thoughts on “I Wear My Pain Like Stilettos

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