Queen of Wrong

I am wrong. I live upon a mountain of wrongness. Exist clinging to cliffs of wrongness. In a state of constant wrong. I am buried in wrong.

I was born wrong to the wrong sorts of people on the wrong side of the tracks. I talk wrong. I dress wrong. I walk wrong. I think wrong. I lust wrong and I hate wrong. I am wrong in the eyes of lovers and enemies. I taste all wrong. I do only wrong. I read the wrong books. I walk the wrong path. I worry wrong. I suffer wrongly. I come from the wrong town. I do the wrong things. I take the wrong corners and I cling to wrongness in your eyes. I am never right.

I am in a kingdom of wrongness. I am a Queen of wrong. I impale my self on my own spikes of wrongness on tall walls built of the wrong bricks. My eyes are wrong. My skin is wrong. I have the wrong bones in the wrong body. I am screaming wrong at the top of my lungs and slip from those wrong spires. I am wrong in the face of the wrong gods and I love only in wrongness.

And when its all over I will close my eyes the wrong way and cry the wrong tears.