PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i pounded metal
i refused softness
i gave you to god
to keep for who knows how long
i called you weak
backhanded your tears to the floor
i told you it was your fault
i gave away blood
for ice and called myself
a queen

i embedded in you iron
told you to refuse your instincts
and hurt and kill and revenge
what had been taken
i tossed your pleas to the floor
slapped your need for forgiveness
told you you were a fool for loving
told you it was all your fault
ripped you from my chest
sent you up on a string and
called myself
a queen

i want to die sometimes
i want to live sometimes
i am sorry to myself and others
i am sorry for this poem
you say how can i blame you for being sad
haven't i been saying that the whole time