They call me a demon, I was a goddess

I leave the broken men out where they can be seen

hanging corpses of devastated dreams

To serve as a warning to the others

They curse my name in the streets

Yelling and screaming their insults

Smearing the flags branded with my face

With their rotten garbage

Telling their friends what blasphemies I committed against the name of love

Calling me a witch or demon or la llorona

Searching for sanctuary,

Running to the arms of the saints of mercy

Or to the nearest bottle

But whisper my name in prayers of desperation

Before falling asleep

Repenting their sins against womenkind

Stomach empty with the memories of what is no longer there

Cold tears kissing their lips in place where mine once were