#literature · #writing · Feminism · humanity · Poetry

Self-Righteous Queen

So, I`m the self-righteous queen, eh?

So, he writes in his “secret journal”

Forgetting to mention that his faults lie in his own bed

rippling under his feet

Tearing his spine

His miniscule brain

his comatose common sense

and lack of fulcrum

to balance what I thought we had

Self- righteous queen

who sells her car,

throws away her dreams in the bayou in hopes of being a wife,

a giver,

and maybe a mother

she twisted her herself

to fit in his unyielding cosmos

that only tilts when it wants to- no matter if the law of physics don`t abide

no matter if she hallucinates in his absence while he drives through the dark corridors of his own insanity

“I`m the self righteous queen

who killed the shepherd

to take his sheep”

to mend them for his comfort

to skin them for his warmth

to feed him so he won`t bloat

in emptiness”

This shepherd screams, ” Help! Bring me back lady!”

I am your blood, your real dreams

your muse, your quivering girl you used to be before a man swifted you out of your barnacles into unfamiliar ones

I hear her like a cocoon writhing in the leaves

So, I push and push- no more loyalty for this one and the other.

Only to me

Because I am a queen; and a righteous one.




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