it has never been hard.

teacups, silvery things, gilded saucers partaken
with steel wrists. wrists of steel
acidly denying refusal
even with shakes of the head.

drink the tea, all of you.
drink it all up, drain the bitter cup.
debutantes all, husha-husha! may you fall down!

these steel wrists, intricacies in themselves
insomuch they are steel, cold dead metal, and yet they breathe life.
the harsh stench of their breath; it denies life.
why? why does steel live, and yet die
with the passing of its protege?

the garotte hold of the starched collar wilts
with the will.
but not the stranglehold on the bleeding frame.
the frame, it bleeds, but not for long.

one day, when the heart stills, the crimson flow will halt.

drink it all up, you cursed debutantes. drink the poison
you so kindheartedly brewed
for yourself.

and dance, dance the last dance

i want to see the feet fall.
fall to the ground, resolutely

as you free your crimson flows.