Oppressed

Trapped in the cages you built around me
I am a strong woman but you seek to belittle me
And every word I speak is an attack on your character
Do you think me spiteful, hateful?
Or do you fear the truth you might find in my words?
I have tried to speak with a gentle voice—
And you did not hear me.
I have tried to shout with power—
And you shout louder to drown me out.
Now I roar with the breath of a dragon—
And suddenly I am dangerous indeed.
Chipping away at the chinks in your armor—
You are vulnerable now—
But your pride scrambles to shield the flesh exposed.
Witch, you call me.
Ungrateful, because you have given me everything.
I do not deny the things you have given—
Wonderful and bountiful indeed—
And for them, I am eternally grateful.
But respect cannot be bought
Nor can love or submission
Every day I grow stronger and I say:
I dare you to dismiss me again.

The Story Was Mine

[Verse 1]
Oh I breathed you in
But you didn’t come back out
I don’t remember it now
But I know the fall out
Tried to mess my mind but you left no doubt
A permanent low
Your hands stuck around my throat
Now I’m losing sleep
Cause when I do I know I’ll dream
And I know it’s only nightmares waiting for me

[Pre-Chorus]
Now everybody sings
Everybody sings

[Chorus]
“All hail the ruiner
All hail the king”
They called him my lover
But I don’t remember a thing
Now he’s stains on my body like ink
On the pages of my story
He goes down in glorious
Endings, divine
Everyone forgets
The story was mine

[Verse 2]
Steel my spine
Take the blows
They praise his name
And I’m the true foe
The monster mother’s tell their boys about at night
“Oh, she’ll ruin you
So keep your name clean
Oh, she’ll ruin you”
But about his hands she never says a thing

Why didn’t you tell him
Why didn’t you say
Sometimes damnation
Is a street that goes both ways

[Pre-Chorus]
Now everybody sings
Everybody sings

[Chorus]
“All hail the ruiner
All hail the king”
They called him my lover
But I don’t remember a thing
Now he’s stains on my heart like ink
On the pages of my story
He goes down in glorious
Endings, divine
Everyone forgets
The story was mine

[Bridge]
I saw it coming
And it still knocked me off my feet
I saw it coming
And it still took the breath out of me
They call him a king
So what does that make me?
They call him a king
So guess that makes me

[Chorus]
All hail the ruiner
All hail the king
They called him my lover
But I don’t remember a thing
Now he’s stains on my mind like ink
On the pages of my story
He goes down in glorious
Endings, divine
Everyone forgets
I will never forget
I can never forget

I Am Not His Savior

She lies she lies –
Tell me you love me.
She smiles she smiles –
Tell me you’re happy.
She cries she cries –
Baby, I’m sorry.
She tries to feel things that were never there
–A well of emotions lying untouched behind her ribs –
But the well is empty, perhaps it was never full;
It cannot save a field of dying crops and it cannot save the man.
She watches him drown before her, arms treading water,
His mouth barely dragging in air.
She has done this to him, but maybe he has done it to himself.
The sand of the shore feels wet and smooth beneath her feet, begging her to come out, to save the dying man.
The water froths violently at her ankles –
She doesn’t know how to swim, doesn’t know how to save him, wishes he had never asked her to.
The moon pushes the tide and the tide pushes her.
She is caught in this war that she never asked to fight –
Her mind wants to give in but her heart remains unmoved in her chest.
The moon pushes the tide and the tide pushes her,
But she is a wall of stone; she will not be moved.
Baby, I’m sorry –
She cries she cries.
Tell me you’re happy –
She frowns she frowns.
Tell me you love me –
She speaks the truth.
She opens her mouth and the tide rushes in, attempting to drown her words.
But when the waves recede, they bring with them the turning of the tide, the setting of their sun.
The man is waiting.
Tell me you love me –

…No.

Life and Death and a Girl

Her mind was made of bright lights,
Flashing, blinding, burning.
Her eyes were made of turquoise oceans,
Pushing, pulling, shining.
Her lips were made of paper love letters,
Touching, kissing, cutting.
Her hair was made of soft grass fields,
Tickling, laughing, hiding.
Her soul was made of rainbow paints,
Rising, arching, falling.
Her heart was made of glass feelings,
Loving, hoping, shattering.
Her blood was made of moon ebbed tides,
Cresting, gushing, pooling.
Her body was made of all these things—beautiful, ugly, tragic—now reduced to skin and bones, promises and scars.
For all the lies her body endured, her bones spoke truth—just a girl, once of flesh, stardusted dreams and ocean night breezes. Now, just a corpse—brittle bones and barely healed cracks.
Death touched her gently, kindly, lovely. Held her sweetly, calmly, reverently. For bones told no lies, as flesh so oft did. Her bones were just a girl, loved by death and no one at all.
Death dressed her beauty—
Stuffed her ribs with flowers soft, petals silk,
Crowned her head with morning glories,
Filled her heart with roses pink and roses white,
Painted her body in blues and greens, white and red.
Pink—soft like flesh—
And orange—heavy like sunlight—
These were the things of which he made her.
For while Life had dressed her cruelly, touched her cruelly, loved her cruelly.
Death would call her sweet, touch her tender, love irrevocably.
Life had given her away, flung to waves of far seas.
Death clutched her precious, a pearl in his chest of treasures: she was butterflies and sunshine, honey milk and dew drops, cloudy skies and lamplit streets.
Life had given her away and Death had laid his claim.
What she was once, she would never be again—
For now she was his.