I am dressed in black at a ceremony of love
Staring at the man I once knew
I want to die on that alter and be with him in Hell
Requesting a casket for two
Bride dressed in white with stars in her eyes
Her name is a war on my tongue
I served his bed, but his heart beats in her chest
I wasn't special. I was just young.
I swallow his vows like he wrote them for me
Something I needed to steal
He swore he would leave her, so I gave him my soul
He didn't keep his end of the deal.
There is agony involved in being a secret
I'm mourning alone at our grave
Flowers in her hand bloomed from my tears
Give me back what I gave.
She is dressed in white for her own betrayal
Parading the purity I'll never know
A tale of two women, and I was the other
The flower that will never quite grow
YOU ARE READING
Written in Red
PoetryA compilation of poetry I wrote during high school about sexuality, heartbreak, navigating the world as an autistic woman, dysfunctional families, grooming and abuse, and more.
