eufemistycznie - Hello Poetry

they pluck forbidden apples they turn them to dust scratching the initials of hated beings with their claws they chant dragging corpses from the ground the rumbling of feet fire smothering every uninvited soul a ritual purifying cursed hands throats torn apart by starving demons laughter turning into a scream hands full of earth tracing circles a dance that is a prayer sisters bound by a blood pact united by the whispers of others their white robes fluttering above the bonfire mist enveloping their released bodies penetrating every corner of the soul forest creatures surrounding them with their breath uttering their names in an ancient tongue names that are a curse a mother sealed in the wind creating every sin every sister giving birth to them amid the flames lifting them from the earth in the moonlight drinking the blood dripping from the vulture’s beak awakening when the night is flooded with ****** light the night when the rest surrender their souls to the fire the night that is the beginning of the end the bloodthirsty howl of witches at midnight

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Mar 22

Mar 22, 2026 at 4:28 PM UTC

the bloodthirsty howl of witches at midnight

they pluck forbidden apples they turn them to dust scratching the initials of hated beings with their claws they chant dragging corpses from the ground the rumbling of feet fire smothering every uninvited soul a ritual purifying cursed hands throats torn apart by starving demons laughter turning into a scream hands full of earth tracing circles a dance that is a prayer sisters bound by a blood pact united by the whispers of others their white robes fluttering above the bonfire mist enveloping their released bodies penetrating every corner of the soul forest creatures surrounding them with their breath uttering their names in an ancient tongue names that are a curse a mother sealed in the wind creating every sin every sister giving birth to them amid the flames lifting them from the earth in the moonlight drinking the blood dripping from the vulture’s beak awakening when the night is flooded with ****** light the night when the rest surrender their souls to the fire the night that is the beginning of the end the bloodthirsty howl of witches at midnight

29

kiss me kiss me when we find ourselves in solitude kiss me when we stand in the park drowned in each other's presence kiss me among whispers that express our secrets kiss me while uttering impossible promises kiss me between the leaves and birds kiss me drawing me to your heart between sighs kiss me in front of a hidden painter kiss me knowing all this is just a forgotten painting

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Feb 17

Feb 17, 2026 at 12:29 PM UTC

kiss me

kiss me kiss me when we find ourselves in solitude kiss me when we stand in the park drowned in each other's presence kiss me among whispers that express our secrets kiss me while uttering impossible promises kiss me between the leaves and birds kiss me drawing me to your heart between sighs kiss me in front of a hidden painter kiss me knowing all this is just a forgotten painting

9

They have been gathering under apple trees since ancient times They reach with their ***** hands toward the apples They tear each one off The wormy ones The unripe ones The rotten ones Each one is good for them as long as the pick it themselves They sink their teeth into each one and then discard it Because who would want a bite-marked apple They pay no regard to the thorns that protect the apple tree They pay no regard to the bitter taste They have a right to the apples just as their ancestors had a right to them And when they sink their teeth into their next prey The pulp of the apple tree runs down their fingers mixing with the blood of sinners The blood of sinners who take what does not belong to them The blood of sinners who hurt those whose voices are not yet developed The blood of sinners who hurt those whose voices are already too old The blood of sinners who hurt those whose screams tear their eardrums The blood of sinners who hurt those whose screams are too quiet to hear The blood of sinners who hurt those who give life to others Because the apple tree is a woman, and the woman is an apple tree

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Jan 28

Jan 28, 2026 at 1:23 PM UTC

Apple tree

They have been gathering under apple trees since ancient times They reach with their ***** hands toward the apples They tear each one off The wormy ones The unripe ones The rotten ones Each one is good for them as long as the pick it themselves They sink their teeth into each one and then discard it Because who would want a bite-marked apple They pay no regard to the thorns that protect the apple tree They pay no regard to the bitter taste They have a right to the apples just as their ancestors had a right to them And when they sink their teeth into their next prey The pulp of the apple tree runs down their fingers mixing with the blood of sinners The blood of sinners who take what does not belong to them The blood of sinners who hurt those whose voices are not yet developed The blood of sinners who hurt those whose voices are already too old The blood of sinners who hurt those whose screams tear their eardrums The blood of sinners who hurt those whose screams are too quiet to hear The blood of sinners who hurt those who give life to others Because the apple tree is a woman, and the woman is an apple tree

22

you run away tripping over protruding roots graves dug up everywhere you hear the sound of a harp summoning you to return you look up and see the shadows of the moon hands forming a silent prayer mother nature tell me where you buried your child I want to visit them as a sacrifice the wind tears at your hair you turn around and meet the gaze of hungry wolves you trip over a tree and fall into eternal suspension doomed to be torn apart the wolves' fangs tear out your heart, serving it on a platter to the gods and when your mother lifts your barely open eyelids her laughter fills the void left by your heart filled with promise the whisper of worship

0

Jan 28

Jan 28, 2026 at 1:04 PM UTC

The whisper of worship

you run away tripping over protruding roots graves dug up everywhere you hear the sound of a harp summoning you to return you look up and see the shadows of the moon hands forming a silent prayer mother nature tell me where you buried your child I want to visit them as a sacrifice the wind tears at your hair you turn around and meet the gaze of hungry wolves you trip over a tree and fall into eternal suspension doomed to be torn apart the wolves' fangs tear out your heart, serving it on a platter to the gods and when your mother lifts your barely open eyelids her laughter fills the void left by your heart filled with promise the whisper of worship

17