Mistress

There have been days all about fitting in
I captured moths
and tried to call them butterflies
because world wanted me to

Some days I gave in
and tasted bland mundanity
I thought my wings needed to be cut off
because 'everyone has to do it'

By day I wear my veil of morals
strut with legitimate titles
World grunts with a nod of approval
because finally I am normal

By night
I paint my lips scarlet
A little intoxicated
in my gittering stilettos

I knock on his door
That fair youth
from faraway land
who crushes our future with his careless gait

My moral compass licks at my ankles
like a forlorn pet
I kick it away
Dormant desire crawls under my skin

He calls me Goddess of Mess
I rise from the dead
and whisper in his ears,
'Chaos, I am your mistress...'