Rating:General Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen, Other
Fandom: Six - Marlow/Moss

Relationships:
Katherine Howard & Everyone, Katherine Howard & The Queens (Six - Marlow/Moss), Katherine Howard/Henry Mannox, Francis Dereham/Katherine Howard, Henry VIII of England/Katherine Howard, Thomas Culpeper/Katherine Howard

Characters:
Katherine Howard, Henry Mannox, Francis Dereham, Henry VIII of England, Thomas Culpeper, Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour Queen of England, Catherine Parr, Anne of Cleves

Additional Tags:
Katherine Howard Needs a Hug, Katherine Howard-centric, Katherine Howard Backstory, Prose Poem, Free Verse, Poetry, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death

Language:English
Published:2022-09-20
Words:800

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Summary:Katherine writes poems throughout her life at different ages.
—💗—

N. "Mom once said" (10)

The words are your sword

and shield for the world.

Never forget that,

My sweet little Kat.

I. "The bees sting" (13)

The bees sting

in my skin,

in my flesh,

in my veins:

they contaminated me.

The bees sting,

in my neck,

in my legs,

in my flower:

they intoxicated me.

The bees sting,

honey and white nectar,

that drip and mix

in my body:

they used me.

The bees sting,

they leave me raw,

bloody,

and lifeless:

they left me.

The bees sting,

night fell,

The sun came out,

I still breathe:

they ruined me.

II. "Incomplete" (15)

We wallow in parchment

for the first time

in the night.

Your hands under my thighs

trace the moles.

Your hands on my corset

untangle the strings.

Your hands in my hair

pull the strands.

Your hands run through me

like an unexplored map

even if was used

by other travelers.

You do not care about that

because you do not care about me,

so why would I?

I'm just a piece of meat

so that travelers

like you,

bite,

destroy,

eat

and leave in the dust.

Because i'm not better

that dust on old books

that sticks to shelves

forgotten by the people

who no longer loves to read,

who no longer loves

beings like me:

chewed,

spit,

damaged:

incomplete.

We wallow in parchment

over and over again.

It never ends.

Ink and sperm mix

under my thighs

on my corset

in my hair.

Your hands between my thighs

trace my folds.

Your hands remove my corset

leaving me naked.

Your hands pull my hair

my head throbs.

Your hands run through me

and they pull,

touch,

hurt,

(Ab)use.

Your hands do not love

because you do not care

if you hurt me,

if i tremble,

if I cry

or if I bleed

(all over the desk,

the floor

or the bed.)

You do not care,

so neither do I.

III. "The shame of a thornless rose" (16)

Queen you are among all women 

you are coveted by all men,

after all you are the thornless rose of the king

and the youngest that has bring.

Covered in silks and gold,

they want to make you look old:

you are younger than his daughter

who drowns in sulfur and water.

You are not the most refined

even if you are graceful like the wind,

but you know the pretend game

although you think it's a shame.

If you have learned something

is that you can not trust anything

¡It's just a pity that you fell

in the smile with a spell!

IV. "Seventeen" (17)

Seventeen is the oldest I'll ever be,

no more no less:

only seventeen candles

and I'll be free.

Free from this cage

in which they keep me:

I say my plea

while I imagine the stage.

"Eyes looking and judging

to the harlot who was once queen:

when he found out what she did at thirteen,

the poor king left crying!"

I was never anything but a marionette 

in a dollhouse that hide

everything that happened inside

on the king's court set.

Oh, if only I could disappear

and leave this hell behind

I would do it with peace of mind:

I would dance with the brightest star.

Footsteps echo in the dark hall,

my time is near

and I only have one fear:

that they remember me only for my downfall.

V. "Three hundred years" (18)

Three hundred years have passed 

since I was beheaded.

I open my eyes and I'm surrounded

by gold, green, blue, gray and red.

The queens before and after me

are in a table drinking tea.

Because they—we are free

to finally laugh in glee.

The queen in gold is a brave like a lioness:

I see why she was once the highness.

The queen in green has a forked tongue:

with her words the spirits hung.

The queen in gray is a storm:

she'll take you down without lifting an arm.

The queen in red is a wildcard:

her unpredictable actions will leave you off guard.

The queen in blue is smart:

she can make you fall apart.

I'm the queen in pink:

the one that is forgotten in a blink.

They are steps above me

while I drown in the sea

watching them dance with the heavenly bodies

with whom I used to dream stories.

But for some reason

even if it's not treason

they hold my hand tightly

until my heart gets lightly.

They are nothing like them

don't treat me like scum

but as if I was worth,

as if they care about me,

as if I was enough

as if they loved me.

And after three hundred years of being a dead queen,

I finally turned eighteen.

—💗—
AO3 NOTE:
I love K.Howard so much.

Soooo Is kinda lame, in special I and II but I wrote this biotches in class soo, idk, that's my escuse for my lame poetry.

Also I was using the translator to wrote this so if you see any mistake, tell me please!

Have a nice day! :^)

Btw, it's a mix of free verse and poetry with rhyme schemes.

Also I suck at maths it was supposed to be 500 years no 300 je je je.
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