Resurrected

by M.R. Haden - Not entered


I've died too many times to count the murders made
Every friend I've come to love has killed me in their way--
Betrayal of trust, abuses of love, nothing ever lasts
I am a priest of broken things, have wept and prayed and fast
What terrifies is not the killing, the murders made of me
But the kind of bloodshed that this brings
     Here is a darker savagery--

After lingering in the sleep, beneath a moonlit sky
Something has awakened--something will not die
It will not lay still while being raped
     Or keep its horrors secret
It will not cry silently in enclosed arms
     Or cower in the closet
It's standing up, it's rising slowly
     To think that this is me
Like a Pheonix from the fire
     It's a master assigning slaves
     To be a servant to desire
And the ones that made me hurt
     The ones that made me broken
Are turning all their heads
To a massacre awoken.

See for me the Circe they've created
In resurrection first, to see these things ill-fated
The blessed are the cursed, and so it has been stated
I am a mermaid here to drown
     Everything I love
By thinking of you every time I kiss
    This is what I've become:
The demon twisting on the stairs
    Tea cups filled with blood
Afternoons aren't coffee spoons
    But knives and broken glass
    Ashes and purple roses
    I am now the last.

    I am now the mermaid
    And you can't make me sing
    My mouth is filled with water and blood
    And resurrected--this love is everything.

Copyright (c) by M.R. Haden  1998

Reason for writing:

    
This is how the things that destroy you make you stronger--that the hurt, after killing me for so long, has finally resurrected me into something else, something stronger. What does not kill me makes me stronger. Maybe. But it's nothing I'd be overly proud of.    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1998-05-11 15:01:42
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:40:13
Poem ID: 49547

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