the blood of wearing the crown
I wore your crown, didnt I?
the thorns embedded in my head.
and I smiled like a homecoming queen,
as my tears painted me red.
I became some fantasized dream,
of what it meant to be alive.
but the narrative written in ink,
it was all a treacherous lie.
heavy is the head,
that wears the crown.
yet worn are my shoulders,
from the fears that hold me down.
why didn’t you tell me?
that the world would cut me up.
before I sat in my satin dress
crying and torn by the world I made up.
What would happen, to my little world
if I traded my crown for a flower?
and I petaled the dress away,
upon the stroke of the midnight hour.
Maybe I’m not always golden,
or radiating light from within.
perhaps I’m a mirrorball,
reflecting the world as i spin.
for all my shades of red,
and my raging hues of blue,
the times I let my heart turn purple,
just to fit the colors of you.
i hope you see me in echos of rose,
and doused in pastel green.
and in my chocolate beaten eyes,
i hope you understand the world I’ve seen.
I was set upon your precipice,
always destined to fall,
maybe you never knew, but
I never wanted the crown at all.
so what happens if I take it off?
can I be a queen with out my crown?
I wonder, will I still be me
if I release it in the water and let it drown?