A long, long time ago, a little girl grew tired of crying.
She could not squeeze the love from those around her any more than she could wring blood from stone.
In time, though, she realized that she could be needed.  
She could be, if not beloved, then necessary.
But even when she became necessary, why could she not become beloved?

So she tried, and tried, and tried, and tried, and tried.

The job is done now.
It was not easy, of course.
But that is why they asked me to do it.

I wonder if I will ever stop trying.  
There is an appreciation for the one who completes the tasks nobody wants to do.
But there is a fear there, too.
They are disgusted by that which is too different from them.
And I have made myself into their dog.

Out of:
Love?  
Or lack of it?

I did it for them.

I wish I had broken up with the boy
Before I grew to resent the man

I loved him too dearly
To see that they were one and the same

I bloodied my fingers clinging to hope
But lies do not a lover keep

Not from him to me, nor from me to myself
Knowing I was right is no consolation

I once fancied myself noble like a wolf
But when he beckoned I ran like a dog

I swallowed my pride, ceased my howling for what I deserved

And like a dog I crept back time and time again
Whether he, or love, was a crueler master I couldn’t say

It seems we both forgot that a cornered dog will still bite
I wonder if my jaws felt like a wolf to him

To know love is to know the sight of his eyes,
dark and warm as a lit hearth in the midst of winter.
Sometimes I see stars in them,
whole galaxies reflected in those umber depths,
whole galaxies turning in his mind.
They are more comforting than any others, to me,
gentle as they are in their purveyal of the world,
quick as they are to crinkle while he smiles.
I run over the memories in my mind again and again,
turning each one like pebbles into glass;
smooth and polished but never, ever to compare.
Their beauty is not in color alone,
nor shape, comely as they are,
but in the man who uses them to behold me in turn.
And thus it is a requited choice I make,
as I hold him in my heart,
to look upon his dear face and think to myself:
To know love is to know the sight of his eyes.

I've done my mourning
for the man I thought you were.
I guess I wasn't mistaken,
I heard you've been that man for her.

Let me be in peace now,
let your judgment hang not about my head.
Remember then whose hand it was
that snapped the final thread.

I was never yours to begin with, and so you can't hate me for denying what you yourself would not give, had I asked, and not you.

Once
They called me crown-breaker
For nature knows no kings
And
I acted on that notion

Now
The blood on my teeth has long been dry
I have put down my sword
And
I have been civilized

But
The people are crying injustice
Tyrants have risen like they always do
And
I feel the old hunger growing again

For
My blade was never broken, just dull
No earthly force could tame me for long
And
These fangs remember how to rend throats