the mistake, the God forsaken mistake.
she knew.... didn't she?
The rocky promontories of her soul
seek asylum, a piece of relief.
A sliver of blue on a dark horizon.
The mistake yet follows her
like a branded red M on her sheath.
but she let him in.....
she is now surrounded with his
emotional debris. Crowding her thoughts.
Drowning her in his ever present need, the
stench of his sorrow.
The light is bleeding out of her, a dependent
to his desires. Vulnerable and no longer her own.
She exists only to fulfill his wishes. Her mistake.
Her crown of martyrdom does not sit well upon her head.