Midas Touch

Midas Touch
25-10-17

Maybe I'm an angel underneath -
Innocent, sweet, pure
And undeniably good -
But this outer layer's pure bitch,
Hard, sharp, poisoned by love's bitter taste
And sacrificed to the gods of the arena.

Maybe I was an angel once,
Wings lifting me aloft in love and purity,
But I ripped those wings apart
Feather by bloody feather,
Until only slimy stumps remained
To tell the tale of my torment.

I'm a bitch;
Pure, unequivocal pain
Moulded into a layer of protection
Nobody should break through.
A bitch of the highest quality,
Whose heart no longer knows
The whisper of heaven's wings against her cheek.
Who no longer stands tall,
But stoops under the weight of it all.
All the pain,
All the suffering,
All the love lost
Moulding me into an unrecognizable rage of a girl -
Riches to rags,
Begging for the scraps from some benevolent hand me down of kindness.

Every now and then I fall apart,
But I remain a bitch
Underneath all the sugar coated sweetness.

I'm a bitch,
I'm a lover,
I'm a child,
I'm a mother.
I'm a sinner,
I'm a saint...
...and yes I feel ashamed.

I'm ashamed of my pain,
Ashamed of loves lost
And lives twisted to suit my needs.
Ashamed to be alive
Whilst others have died,
Yet too ashamed to die
As should be my place

Once upon a time I was falling in love,
Now I'm only falling apart -
A shadow doomed to face the sun's execution at dawn -
There was light, once,
Now only dark remains.
And so I become the bitch of a Rome I've created from ashes,
A self proclaimed god of the arena
Who has never won the crowd's favour,
Birthed by blood
And watered by tears
Until only the bitch remains unscathed,
Untainted,
Untouched by my fatal Midas Touch.