xanthippe

i see through broken glasses, as i sit on my hands in silence i open my mouth and out come the ashes my hands are under pressure, but so are diamonds i swear someone's pushing me down, my neck is hurting they told me princesses, whilst looking on the ground, wear their crown my neck is burning with the idiosyncrasy at the tip of my tongue, and the rest of the world on top of my shoulders, i rest my sunken eyes shut and breathe with my tampered lung the air is getting colder with only a pinch of forgiveness left, i release my hands from my weight and as i do so, i feel a weight drop in my chest i sit up straight a xanthippe i must be, i daresay in tact with the switch in my head i open my eyes a princess i am, but not the one they say and with what i thought was my last breath i sigh my teeth are sore from the shutting of my mouth my cheeks are swollen, but with the words on my mind i replace the doubt i will no longer sit, while my trepidation faces a crowd of the unbroken the rich, the satisfied my hands might be cold and shiver like the earth when touched by human, but from my pain the rich will no longer catch delight i am a woman