Jan. 28/10 @ 9:33pm


Crowns

Crown me the lowest of the low.

Offer me a hand as I am seated
on my throne
of brokenness and shame.

My teeth too bright, too forced--
artificial-- just as my heart is.

Make-up caked on in a
lame attempt to mask
the ugliness of my soul.

Crown me the lowest of the low
so you can strip me of my title,
so you can spit in my face

just so you can feel better
about yourself.



Poetry by strangelady13
Read 626 times
Written on 2010-01-29 at 06:40

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Sad, late night thoughts.
2010-01-29