this is a sestina. it is untitled as of now. if you don't know what a sestina is, go do your research.
i escape into the darkness of a matinee
accompanied by my lord legless
as i clutch my gift, a daisy,
colored the same golden hue as the tribal tattoo
he inked on his skin the dawn of our marriage
in honor of our suicidal raven.
my ears are invaded by the harsh notes of the raven
wielding me breathless with his impromptu matinee,
blinding me to my misfortune's marriage.
its mate is as much heartless as legless,
displaying as much affection as my nonexistent tattoo.
"he loves you not" reiterates the daisy.
i savagely rip the petals from the daisy,
my crime witnessed only by the intrusive raven
who pecks at my skin, leaving a gruesome tattoo.
"a slaying is not proper for your puppet show matinee."
my shame renders me legless,
the same sensation first tasted on the verge of my marriage.
i too often confuse this mirage with marriage,
but i avoid the light for fear i will wither like a daisy,
lose my stem, and become legless-
unable to flee from the wrath of the raven
who takes my life as seriously as a midnight matinee,
ensuring my dismay remains as permanent as a tattoo.
i reveal my scars with as much esteem as i would a tattoo.
my mascara tears run like ink at the thought of marriage
for i fear the quick demise of our love story matinee.
i ponder our future in my naive manner, plucking a daisy,
and tossing it into the air to be caught by the raven.
immersed in bliss, i float along, purely legless.
i awake from my daydream, anything but legless,
your image imprinted into my mind like a tattoo,
but yet again i am interrupted by that damned raven
who craves attention as much as i crave a marriage
as idyllic and impeccable as your precious daisy
i so lovingly received in the waning moments of the matinee.
dismiss the melancholy raven, he knows not of our happy marriage.
my dear prince, let us remain as legless as your portrait tattoo,
as delicate as the daisy the moment you proposed in the dark matinee.
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