#iron thone

[mrjoker47]

[madrefiero]

I made a thing for Jen. Hehehe. 

[anarchistbirthedrevolutiona-blog]

Iron throne

It’s a lesson I learnt from a very young age,

Probably from watching my mother retract

 for my father’s expansion.

She shied and she quitted as simply to teach

Her young daughter the only way to prosper was to disappear.

My right and my purpose was to grow inward

To give him the space for his expansion, to world build for him.

I am to be nothing more than the building blocks for his ego.

He kept me around when he needed me

Chewed me up and spit me out

while he had me.

The varried minutes in my bed are all he craved

he was nothing more than a miner,

 and the gem that he sought was gold that lay between my thighs.

and he kissed me as if to drink new life,

and he touched my skin as if,

 it was made of the rarest of diamonds.

I laid my head on his chest and felt the beating heart of a champion,

I meant nothing less than to make him my king

And for that I have no excuse.

I ripped open my rib cage to build a home for him.

I laid his head on the banners of my soul

Sat him down on the iron thrones of my heart.

I gave him every inch of me, to do with as he pleased.

And when he reached his peek,

 He made a battleground me,

Shattered my bones to build himself a castle

Clawed my flesh to feed his demons,

He drunk my blood for his self-indulgence.

And when he left, he shredded my soul and took scores away with him.

As if to mount them up on his castle walls as living trophies.

I’d given myself to the master as he is known,

to rearrange my demons and stitch me together

But with his children glue and plastic tape he never quite did hold together.

It only held just as long as he saw value in me, for as soon as that expired,

My sanity went along with it.

My message here is to never let a man drug your heart through the mud,

With a worth of nothing more than plastic rain boots in the country storm.

My worth is not defined by the value of his pride,

He does not get to leave and return whenever it pleases him.

He is no king.

He is nothing more than an overgrown boy.

He deserves no crown.

I am no conquest for him to brag over drunken slurs

With jack daniels on his lips

 Trying to forget mine.

And he’ll seat there pretending that I do not speak of him

But you know these words clawed out of my wound

Like crying mothers birthing dying babies were meant for you.

Innocence dying to free our souls, my bleeding sacrifice.

Like the 40 lashes left their stretch marks lining in my breasts

To give you the right to say I was not perfection

Therefore I was not what you required,

 maybe not what you desired.

And those same hands you used to worship me with,

Those same ones you’ll use to applaud me with.

Are the same ones that you’ll never get to hold me with.

I will keep my iron throne for its rightful victor,

A true king only bows to his queen.

[ladyvanessa-ives]

Question: How would you like to end GoT?

Kit Harington: I want Jon Snow to be on the Throne. Definitely!