THE RED DRESS

red

By Wendy Norman

You linger there feeling the dust settle in
Weighed down with guilty sin
We used to dance
Now I walk in a trance

Abandoned in a heap
With Joy buried so deep
I wander in circles of dark
My temples tainted with marks

Twisted words of control
Sink into my lost soul
He tells me he only sees me as his girl
But already my psychic he’s trampled and hurled

Into his bin that is laden with sin
Decaying the layers of hope trapped within
His distorted ego and superficial charm
Will only weaken me and bring me harm

My former self will soon be a ghost
A hungry masochist if now my host
Wearing defeat as a cloak of honour
The death march is now my genre

It’s dark in here I need the light
Embrace my armour, take up the fight
Take this garment of salvation
Leave hell and damnation

Release the warrior goddess
Wearing drabness tricks the modest
Rise strong and victorious leave this mess
Be hopeful and sure, dare feel my caress

You fit like a glove, it was made for me
Voyeurs will see and enjoy the view
Woman in red has now just arrived
Wanton strong presence is now not contrived

Reins and spurs released from speech
A higher pitch my resolution must reach
Forget conclude and be agreed
He is not worth your heart to bleed

Run so far break those ties
There once was a shadow it’s now expired

Photography by Carl Mero

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