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Apr 2018 · 316
The Ocean
Fox Rivers Apr 2018
Take me, take me.
The words are a whisper on my lips.
Knee-deep in the water, I continue
moving forward, rocking back as the water
crashes into my hips.
Drown me, drown me.
Seaweed wraps around my ankles.
Fish swirl around my waist.
The salt is now caking me.
I let it soak into my skin as the water
strokes my cheek.
I'm being lulled to sleep;
foam at my lips.
This is the best feeling in the world.
Can an ocean hear a lie?
Blood bubbles up around me
as the words pour from my soul,
and I pray the sharks don't smell it.
Water fills my lungs as I begin
to sink into the darkness.
I hit the bottom, sand
swallowing me up and shells
digging into my skin.
I close my eyes.
I wanted it.
Apr 2018 · 359
Moonlight
Fox Rivers Apr 2018
Tenderly, a cold moonbeam
curls around my fingers.
Bathed in pale light, my eyes gleam.
"Tell me the truth."
The words are a murmur.
Their request is simple,
yet I can never say.
Breathing in stardust, I shake my head.
The light slips away,
and I am still cold,
but now I am also alone.
Mar 2018 · 260
Lust
Fox Rivers Mar 2018
I want to feel
the devil play me
like a violin.
Drag your fingers across my skin.
Kiss me hard, make me feel.
Make me bleed.
Give me a spark of passion.
Drag me down with you,
a steaming love,
a burning love -
Take me.
Take everything that I have.
Don't let me go.
This poem can have a lot of interpretations honestly
Mar 2018 · 318
Angels
Fox Rivers Mar 2018
Tears leak from the statue
of an angel in the garden.
They weep for the innocence lost,
for the words cried out at night -
Forgive me father, for I have sinned!
They weep for the thoughts
ravaging a broken mind -
Tear me apart,
Crush my bones,
Break my heart,
Destroy my soul!
They weep for the darkness
that circles the home,
and seeps into the roots of the flowers.
Sinner, sinner,
goes the chant.
They weep for the church bells
that ring out each morning,
for the people who go there,
for the one who cries out -
How can you believe?
They weep as they are carried;
from the garden and into the street,
flung through the air
and smashed.
I'd rather there be nothing than for a sinner like me to burn alone.
Tears stream down his face,
and he mourns something that never was.
Sinner, sinner.

— The End —