The throne she called home
His manipulative love
The legacy devided
Her life as red as wine
Her inner secrets confined
She is a mistaken flaw with no cause
She is the ugly in refined
She is undecided  
She is unwanted
The woman with no weakness
Her guidance is useless
She is the devils spawn

I'm conscious I am a rambling idiot
I sometimes see a glimpse of sense,
Patterns created by me
I like to say I'm artsy
I know the real reality
I'm just a depressed mess,
Picking up trash and calling it crafts
Thinking I may have finally gotten it right,
I awake and it never changes
Life is thickening up fast like a poor made dessert
I just stand here with my fork, in hopes it'll cool down
My tongue is destroyed,
It no longer can take the burn
So be warned don't serve me overcooked confections