Gaslight
Deanna Sabou

My sanity was denied when I remained truthful,
And so was my intelligence.
The scars wreak havoc on my body in endlessness.
The bruises were difficult to hide, and so were the tears;
My identity withered away and all that was left were my fears.
The mirror on my wall could not recognize the pale skeletal image,
Because she was so far away and the once golden girl was now conquering a deep scrimmage.
Against all odds, in the end I won;
The roses finally grew from my thorns, and my future has just begun.
For now, you are locked in your own isolated cell;
My scars have recovered and I now wish you well.
You being embarrassed of yourself was quite the rare site,
But now I finally took your opportunity, to ignite the gaslight.

Someone painted the altar green

The culprit remains unseen
But I swear, sisters, brothers;
I'll cease the weeping of your mothers
And slice that villain clean and quick
On our wall his corpse will stick

For the Lord gave me the power
To protect those who cower
Away from Satan's servants and friends
Don't worry, they are too late to make amends
We can't help that vandal abandon his evil ways
Next thing you know he'll set our church ablaze

So what do you say, sisters, brothers?
He made our altar unlike the others
Now it's our turn to make it clean
And rid the world of all paint that's green

Dozen birds singing grieving songs
State my mind I wish I could help
Feeling drowned shouldn't they be the saviors
Help me out, pull me out from here

Strangers smiling waiting for their chance
Break them up before it's too late
I lay down my weapon I surrender
State my mind infact this is cruel

Rise of an age when sirens make their ways
To the end of time, I need to be so sure
When the time comes I will soon go
When will all these creatures doom?

He will suckle
and spit
drinking blood
from your ****.

He will spread your legs
and leave
an unprotected present
deposited
past your ****
once he climaxes.

He will claim your womanhood
and demand that you submit
to his weakness,
calling his faults
dominance and confidence.

He will prey upon
ancient insecurities,
that subconscious programming
because you do not know
your own binary coding.

He will trick you into
drinking your resistance away,
plant his pin *****
in your fertile crescent,
and if you try to erase
that lifelong mistake
he will claim
that you are a sinner.

Subdued you will
sublimate your will
and fulfill
fifties sitcoms
housewife fantasies
for a family,
sacrificing all your dream
for the man who schemes
to enslave you.

I will not be afraid,
in dark alleys
or empty parking lots.
I will not be afraid,
when the predatory glances
grow furtive
and purposeful.
I'm not a girl,
I'm a woman,
and I don't smile,
I glow.
Everything about me,
from the shine of my hair,
to the dirt on the bottom of my heels
is regal from the moment it touches me.
Because I'm a queen,
and I was born to reign.
The alleys are my red carpet,
theatre seats are my throne.
Nothing that I set eyes on is allowed to alarm me.
Inside of me,
I carry a miracle,
an ability beyond the comprehension
of the opposite ***,
and outside of me,
I am disguised as a mere mortal.
I'm capable of going to battle
with the wildness and ferocity of a pride of lions,
and returning home to grace my loved ones with a softness that is so tender
so unconditional,
that it could **** with it's heart-aching gentleness.
I'm capable of whatever I wish,
creating life,
or taking it.
I'm capable of building civilizations
and destroying them.
I am a queen.
Whether I am a queen in a smart suit and stilettos,
or a queen in sneakers and sweats,
I'm a queen.
So fear me,
love me,
and be warned-
I refuse to bow to the evil that has been committed against my kind before.
I refuse to bow to the terror.
I refuse to bow at all.
I'm a queen.
I'm a **** queen.

Hands brush the tears from my cheeks.
Hollow hands with hollow bones
that are supposed to belong to me.
My hands can create works of art
so beautiful that my eyes can’t keep up,
they can play the piano and dance
and run themselves through someone’s hair
when my heart is too afraid to speak.
My hands hold a pen like it’s life support,
they revel in the words flowing from beneath
sharp fingertips, they rejoice in the silence
of those who hear me speak my poetry
the way it’s supposed to be spoken: aloud.
My hands are works of art and yet I feel nothing
when they touch my body. They are cold
and numb and I feel nothing.
It only feels good when they hold sharp objects.
Not to my arm or my throat, just between my fingers.
I enjoy the fear of pain it instils in me.
My hands hold a knife the same way
they hold a pen. It keeps them alive.
The only thing that warms them up
is the danger of blood
pumping through my veins. Naive I may be
but I dance like the seductress
with blood draping itself over my skin
and desire burning behind my eyes.
I know what I want when I look at him,
dancing to the music,
inhaling and exhaling smoke like perfume.
I know what I want when his leg touches mine
and I feel the anger blazing inside me,
the anger blazing bright and wild
that I never want to let go.
I know what it feels like to burn alive
when I see his eyes looking elsewhere
and my hollow hands reach desperately
towards the darkness, reach desperately
towards his hollow face.
I find myself swaying to the music of the shadows,
my hips tracing the ocean’s waves,
my eyes glancing upwards with ****** charm
through lowered eyelashes.
I know what you want when I look you.
I see the lust behind those umber eyes,
it drips from you and you bite your lip
as I approach you.
You bite your lip
as I hold your face in my hands.
You bite your lip
as I allow your arms
to trace the waves with me
until I’m the one biting you.
Biting you so you can’t get away,
so that you’ll never want to,
because the feeling of my teeth on your skin
is one you’ll never forget
or get again. Because no one knows how to use blood
as a weapon or *** as a tool quite like I do.
No one knows how to bite you quite like I do.
I know what you want when you look at me,
you want my hollow hands which come alive
on paper, music, paint, to touch your skin
and taint your soul. You want me
to coat you with oil and destroy
your feathers, to pluck the beak
from your mouth. You want me
to make you human
and trust me, I will.
Just you wait.

I stood at a crossroads
And the horizon came towards me.
50 000 kilowatts of pure ecstasy
Raced through my tendons.
I had sunbeams for eyes
And **** for brains,
A crushing tempest of
Beauty and chaos,
Telling me that mortality was
Violent and explosive.