Hangwoman

 You had asked me to slide all my joints into the noose of your strings

and, for the most part i had complied-

eyes facing forward,

bend at the knee here

hand outstretched here

don't speak.

But the only way to string up my heart was to run me through, 

clean through.

So you had to ask yourself

whether a dead puppet was the price of your happiness.

Apparently the answer was no.

i had hoped you would have asked whether i 

should rightly be expected to pay that price,

but by that point i had no value to you. Even

less than before which is hard to believe.

So i was and remain a dead thing 

made by a dead power

in the shape of the dead. 

i do not belong here,

this is a place of life.

Maybe that's why you moved far away

because you do not belong here either.