Cordelia Grimm
(tw)
Her words spoken steadily like angelic hymns
Rolls off her lip indifferently in the darkest coigns, dim.
Oh, to be Cordelia Grimm,
Oh, to be Cordelia Grimm.
It wouldn't be harsh of his tongue to say I'm envious
It'd only be true, but still, it ends with us.
My fiery temptation to be gone with him instead
Only disguises my regret of knowledge
That he'd rather be in another's bed.
Oh, Cordelia's in his bed.
Cordelia Grimm in his head.
I do not hate her, so to speak,
Her sweetness just seems to sicken me.
I cannot paint her a villain who stole my life.
I cannot do that when she possesses not a hint strife.
So here I am, all alone.
In my bathtub, skin to bone.
Basking in deep watered sorrow
It's such a hard pill to swallow.
And as I push my head under sea
To no surprise, the last face I see,
Cordelia Grimm, smiling down at me.
Oh, Cordelia Grimm, what a dream.
Cordelia sounds magical!
@twerp This is beautifully haunting! The steady, almost reverent repetition of "Oh, to be Cordelia Grimm" casts a hypnotic spell, making her presence feel inescapable. And that final image—"Cordelia Grimm, smiling down at me"—is chilling in its quiet devastation. A tragically elegant descent into envy and sorrow. It calls to mind Keats’ La Belle Dame sans Merci—the ethereal, inescapable femme fatale who lingers long after the story is told. I love this!