Pauper’s Wounds

Blooded steps

sparkling

shredding

spearing

glass shards

embedded in my soles

disabling me

as I attempt to walk through.

Brambles clutch

piercing

gouging

stabbing

beneath my skin

more blood flows

I give in.

My fault really.

I took those words to heart

played princess to the pauper

never listened

never heard the

lies embedded.

It was only with the interloper’s arrival

that it began

the decimation

of love shared.

No account

no words spoken

but suddenly

I am the bad guy.

The one who wants too much

who wants to provide happiness

who wants to make life easier.

Forgive me

silly am I

to think that a man wants a partner

who compliments

not competes with him.

What do I do?

Shrug my shoulders?

Turn around and walk away?

Pathetic thing is

I love so much

I am willing to wait.

Wait….

no that is my imagination

for love is not suppose to hurt

this way.

There will come a day

beware of that

when I will finally have enough

will walk away.

No looking back

regrets burned

think carefully.

Is a bitch

ready to spread her legs

lacking so in respect

really the desired want?

I suppose

nay

I know

that if I were respected

if I was truly loved

no enticement

would

could

drive to baser needs.

What a fucking brutal truth.

Fires burn

rage

bridges erupting

soon as foot is placed

for I am protecting myself.

No longer

never again

will I give anyone

power over me.

November 24/18

Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash