Crumbling in My Dead Kingdom

Hidden in my room,

Bleeding on my bed,

Swimming in pools of anarchy,

Breathing through my mutiny,

Grasping at a wish to speak or scream,

While my imaginary castle crumbles at my feet...

Nothing to hold on to,

Dust creeping on my skin,

Light fading,

Yet no darkness,

Maybe, I believe I will burn,

Though icicles cling to my flesh,

Making my skin scream,

Injustice pulling at my lips as they refuse to let a scream pass.

Or submit me a breath.

Rats crawl beneath the floorboards,

Whining,

Beady red eyes craving for my flesh's taste.

I am still not here,

Ceasing to belong in any world.

Not dead or alive.

So they finished it,

Imprinting this loathing into me,

They wish to watch me writhe and scream.

But in front of them I will bear no regrets...

And they won't let me speak.

Suffocate and bleed,

Beg for sanctum and scream,

Discrimination emanating off their skin.

After torture,

I slipped away,

Unnoticed,

I saw the bloodlust in their eyes.

As the kingdom crumbles,

I come to realize it was never there,

Cold eyes of bodies staring at me,

Surrounded by corpses in a lonely cemetery,

A circle someone made,

And in the middle I bleed.

All sanity dissolves,

Leaving no relent,

No peace to reminisce,

Drowning in my own blood,

I realize,

I have never been a queen.