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May 2019 · 314
holy family.
eliza vy May 2019
step-mother cried today.
her dear baby’s gone away—
drove down that sticky-sweet and bubbling mess
by pretty men and their perfect dress,
with blinding smiles and a made-up face,
their whispered words all carefully placed
to drown him in that murky sea;
to push his head beneath the boiling depths
and silence all our final pleas.

and after all her pain and bleeding,
the birthing screams and angel's oath—
she could not **** either,
why should he get to love both?

step-father sighed today.
who led his child astray?
who filled his little head with sickly lies
of milky sweets and buzzing flies,
with selfish lusts and fleshly desires,
crawling skin and ashen-wax fires,
all leading him toward the flames,
him screaming out with teeth sunk in his shoulder,
lost in all the pleasured pains.

and when the moment has blown past us,
and the rains come flooding in—
he drowned the whole world once;
he surely could do it again.

step-brother died today.
all smelling of decay—
two thousand years of blood and pain and rot,
of pretty words and evil thoughts,
the tangling vines haloed all round his head,
the circling crows all gorging the bread
that's dripping down his broken spine
and spilling from that ruined brain,
his body stained with water, blood and wine.

and when the spike had pierced his body,
would his spirit be released?
the wounds healed three days later;
was it worth it in the least?


but my lover smiled today—
o holy family, everything will be okay.

— The End —