Would you kill me if I asked you to?

Would you be able

to bring down the knife

upon my chest

where my heart beats away, giving me the pale, ashen life that drives me every day?

Would you be able to take away that which is the only thing you have?

A knife dipped in red, my blood, scarlet ribbons and bows

Your fingerprints on the leather handle, there to mark it forever

What do you feel when you slice through my skin?

Does it feel good?

Do you feel accomplished?

Proud?

Huh.

Mutilating my body like your personal carving station makes you feel so much bigger. 

Better?

That too.

(don't you know  you only do this because you're scared

of me?)

In your eyes, I'm the big, bad wolf, when in fact, we're both the sheep. 

Go rot in hell.

Rot in hell, where the stench of those like you will suffocate your nose 

and make you 

decompose

turn your golden organs into black mush

you'll make a lovely compost for the rose bush

Go fuck yourself, with that knife you hold so dear

I was never born to be your slave

I was never born to follow the crumbs you leave in your wake

This is so fucking unfair

We were royals, but you dethroned me

With your painted hands of loyalty

Because a crown that didn't sit atop your head

was never enough

(please stop carving my body to make your designs)

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