deepundergroundpoetry.com
Rant II
Who are you? I do not recognize the face that I proclaimed vows to not too long ago. Who are you now, this is not the man that I married because all I see is a fist smashing into me and making me fall to the ground, where I shall bleed like I have many times before this in my life. This isn't what I asked for, this battle in which I am never the one with the upper hand. I did not know that the things that I do and the things that I say could be pointed as evidence of me being a harlet, and so I shall bow my head to you Good Sir, and wear a scarlet 'A' on my apparel for all the world to know that I am indeed a whore none the less. For I have apparently sinned before I even committed the act of which I have been accused. So you knew all along that I would betray you then why make me stay tied to you? Locked with a ball and chain? What am I to you? A pet, I am nobody's fool and everybody's girl. I am alone when I need someone and surrounded by people when I wish to keep to myself. I have been called a recluse and enchantress, a harlet and a flirt. What purposes are these games, if I never have a chance to win? As soon as the dice rolls I might as well raise my white flag because somehow even when I am right, I am wrong. Is this the Victorian times, because I am a woman I have no right! Is that what this mockery is? If I am wrong than strike me for my sins and make me into the good wife that I am suppose to be. For I am defeated in this war, bloody lips and bruised eyes never did me any good. I am nothing and any scar you give me can be written off as self-inflicted. I will always be classified under the words 'manic' and 'suicide'. There is nothing in this world that can save me from the noose knot that shall await me. I shall be hung at the Gallows for I am a disgrace. Good-bye love and good-bye sunshine, I wish to entreat into darkness now as you wrap your hands around my gullet and squeeze until I never again make a sound. I close my eyes on my life and on the pride that I once felt I had too much of and now I am gone. But only to return as a creature that you will never be able to comprehend.
Published 30th Jul 2011
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I don't mean to be rude, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say, unless you are Greatly exaggerating, you should probably get out of this relationship. No two ways around it no matter the situation
30th Jul 2011 12:26pm
This poem is a work of fiction my friend. I appreciate your concern but this has nothing to do with me but was written in the point of view of a character in a book I am writing. Not every poem is about the author whom wrote it. Alot of my poems are written just because I want to write as someone else and see what the world is like through their eyes. But this poem specifically is not about me but is a work of fiction.
