The Wolves of Midwinter

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Mechanized Wife


Why the hell are your implying eternity with just one kiss?

Marriage is for the tenacious warrior

Not for the dreamers who demonize soulful solitude

The thought of waking up with you every morning

Sickens me to my very core

There is nothing more odious than being chained to children

I'm the one with the seemingly endless birthing pangs.

What pain must you endure-

My unendurable temper- you impetuous oaf

What would you bring into this love?

I've cut my heart out

Extricated my individual aspirations

If I am impregnated, I'm imbued with purpose

I am further bound to this loveless marriage

One kiss, one wedding; seemingly endless imprisonment

God ordained you as the "head" of the house

Were mental faculties implied with that reference?

Or were you thinking of something less honorable?

There's nothing cerebral about you or this legal arrangement

I labor away my spirit by being religiously bound to you

Beyond the solemn, cold temple of holy matrimony

There are other temples

Filled to the brim with headless males

Unfortunately wedded to spineless females

Without this forced sanction, we weren't so quarrelsome

My silent prison remains "our house of God"

Of course, its really your dominion alone

Wasn't it you who've always been God?

Binding me to this sanctified prison

Seeing nothing in me but an inept vessel

Without children, I have no purpose

With children, I'm further sacrificing

Every vestige of those dreams I once had

My soul ached for purposeful work

I must dutifully stay silent in your temple

As the children age, I wither away

Did I ever even love you?

Can real love involve my whole self?

Or is my personal integrity

Superseded by antiquated superstitions

Vaguely, beyond the cobwebs of my mind

I think I remembered loving sex

No, I am only having hallucinations again

Too much dust collecting in our house

Is my own internal soul not even my home no more?

I'm reproached to stay silent forevermore-

Attending to the children in agonizing perpetuity

Its the cruel cycle of being only cherished for utility

I'm a mechanized wife, the sole woman of your lustful prayers

To "God," to your over-sized ego,

St. Paul was your luminary

Spiritually goading me to remain in holy silence

You are the mind that mechanized me

Turning my heart into an unfeeling iron cage

That has the heartbeat like a harsh, painful grind

My assets-every private part of me

All belongs to both you and your "God"

I have no will, but your own and God's

The whippings are paradoxically pleasurable now

Ever since resigning every last humane part of me

If I could truly love beyond these rigid commandments

Weirdly enough, I still pray to a private lover

Am I a heathen, trying to restore my lost soul?

Was I always this tinkering, thoughtless machine

Forever bound to your large temple

What God loves me, Who loves me?

Is love just an operative term?

Utilized to control my every move

When I waste away,

Will I then rediscover my soul?




No comments: