I wonder if when I was created,
I was meant to suffer.
That the invisible thread sewed into my back to carry my wings were to ache,
To stretch and tug on my shoulder blades.
Feeling as if to pry from their sockets.
I think my halo was woven tightly to my head to remind me that I had an expectation to uphold,
A head to hold high.
Sometimes that halo feels like it will rip my scalp off.
My feet bruise easily,
They are always tender and sore.
Every step I take the coal burns through the pads of my heels,
Flames lick up my legs slowly.
Relishing in the pain is the only thing I know.
As for my lips,
When I kiss you I’m sorry my teeth crash against yours.
Slicing on your gums, making you bleed.
When my hands trace down your body,
They are biting.
Burning to the touch,
I apologize.
If only I were an angel as delicate as the others,
To be a savior but I am only the beginning of your ruin.