The Blood Rose

I was often hunted
But never gathered.
Ill equipped and without stature
I could not be captured.
My pieces scattered
From the initial shatter.
Though I was always tired
I rarely appeared tattered
But fairly put together
And well dressed for the weather.
But it has never mattered.

It's funny what image does.
Your rotten milk reflection.
When all the flies buzz
Until there is nothing left to eat.
With all of their erections
And rotten meats.
In the askew direction
It is always me
And just my walking feet.
My shoes are new
And my steps are discrete.

I am always alone.
Someone is mocking me.
Someone is gawking at me.
No one is ever there
But God is in my hair.
People will be waiting to knock me down
After the climb
And run away scared.
I am always fine
And I have always cared.
They broke the mold after my design.
It was a faulty composition.
So naturally with time
I am in a lonely position.

The reel steadily unwinds.
The tape is split and cracks.
The picture chops in and out.
I watch them from the back.
The screen at times turns black.

I have always been someone
No one knows anything about.
It is no kept record.
Unnecessary to share.
What is brought to the surface
Rehearsed and watered down.
It could be a blood red ocean
Where I will eventually drown.

I am no one's daughter now.
I am no one's friend.
I am no one's other half.
I am no one's twin.
I am no one's safe place.
I am no one's end.
I am no one's saving grace.
I am no one's sleepy voice.
I am no one's hiding place.
I am no one's first choice.

I am never safe.
My soul is hidden away.
My very last reserve.
To this very day.
Perhaps in this end
Is this what I deserve?
It is for anyone to say.
But tell me when is the end?
And when will I be rebirthed?
How many times over?
We've seen a few lives.
I just want to know when the film is over
So I may return the knives.

When the lights come on
The trash is all about
In the empty room of my heart
Where moths fly around.
Where everyone is gone
And you can't hear a sound.

Something unique still lingers
Outnumbered and overlooked
Like the ugly homeless singer
Society overtook
Like a very frail drug addicted person
Who cowered and shook
Like a very quiet child
Who wanted to read books.

No one wanted to look at the light.
They just needed it to show them the way.
They knew it existed in the night.
They could blend it all together
And live within the grey.
And if they ever lost it
They knew where I stayed.
And it would never cost them
Because I always gave.
They knew I was a giver
Consistent in my apathy.
And though they often lied
They never got it past me.
They knew I was a lover
Who would give little reaction to blasphemy

They knew I would shiver
Like tree branches in the winter wind.
And just when they thought I had
I would never give in.
Alone in my covers
I am slaughtered over again.

That is what they wanted.
The death pits of sin.
The pigs
And how they grunted
And how all they ever wanted
Was the head of the white deer.
The garnet blood rose
Growing in the undertows.
Anything so beautiful
Eyes so crystal clear.
But I will be unimaginable
Kept alive there.
Anything remarkable
Was where they tried to evoke fear.

The ugly human ego
The aggressive war lord.
The motives of the wicked.
The Monopoly board.
Where your friends fell down
And you just wanted to kick them
Because you had to be first
In your invisible competition.
Because you wouldn't see beyond yourself
And your ears weren't built to listen.
However, in this dog eat dog world
I will always glisten.

I have never been an animal
Nor am I a pearl.
I am not a banker.
I am not a soldier.
No I am just a girl.
As I became a woman.
It has been me against this world.
I will not only prevail here
For I have no foul intention
Believe the truth will be unveiled
Hidden in every sentence.

The devil will deny his existence
In his last repentance.
I will cut the head off.
I am the commission.
I will raise the dead up
Like it is in my mission.

I am the cool rain
Upon our scarred backs.
I am the weeds
Growing through the sidewalk cracks.
I am the voice
Of oppression
Medicating our depression.
I am my weight in gold
Where my value cannot lessen.
Even if I am sold
As a sought commodity
In this world of mannequins
I will be an oddity.

The news will come
On the doorstep
The headline
Bold
In black.
The war will be over.
My heart will be resuscitated.
The air will be crisp.
The catch will be empty
with every shot missed.

My God will say
To me
I knew you well
Sit upon your throne.
No longer worry
For your enemies
Their names
I've never known.
Now, come.
Let's drink the ruby wine
My child
Of your blood rose.