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Madeline Jun 2012
you say it's against god?
well guess what, we're not gods -
we're people, and people love
and that man from galilee didn't teach you only one way

(love everyone, he said
so where exactly is your basis?)

and i'm not saved by your empty words
or by the ritual loop inside your stained glass windows -
i'm saved by feeling the rain
and loving the little things.
i'm saved by the things i create and the beauty i see,
and the mind-boggling vastness of it all -
not
by you.

and if your ******* sacrament is becoming obsolete, well then,
whose fault is that?
the people who are making it a privilege
instead of a right,
a reward for loving one way and not the other
because for god's sake (the one you don't know
as well as you think)
we're all people
and people
love.

your god made you that way,
and you do him no justice.

you say, we don't hate them
("them?")
and no, i suppose you don't -
you do worse.
you patronize,
you pity,
and you pray for,

and it makes me sick.

i can marry the boy i love but
my best friend, he can't do the same?
deplorable, my friends,
and that man from galilee would hang his head.
Madeline Jun 2012
white clouds into her lungs, the pretty girl,
ripping her clothes on the sink -
stumble into the smoke, and gasp its illusions.

we're all wretched,
and no one rises.

she lies back on the man-dirtied bed of hers and
drifts.
we're all substance, and we're all abused.

we're all wretched,
and no one rises.

climb if you can, little girl, or just lie back and let the whiteness
shroud you in its powdered lying.
the things we'd all do for a little substance, the things we all do for a little abuse.

your clothes are too fervent, aren't they?
and removed too fast, and all for this substance,
all this abuse.

rip your clothes on the sink
into it.
Madeline Jun 2012
your persuasion?
the press of your hips into mine,
subtle and slow -
your lips everywhere but my mouth,
sweet and subtle -
your hands on my skin,
slow and sweet -

so i succumb.
Madeline Jun 2012
jesus christ, get off your knees
and remember what you're worth.
don't you know what you used to want?
not the shallow adoration of these boys
(they love your tongue and your teeth, baby girl
but not you)
take your hands back and tear down the wall around you heart.
don't you know what you used to be?
not the shallow plaything of these boys
(they love your tongue and your teeth, little girl
but not you)
stand up and fight for yourself -
you're more than what they say.
you forget the thoughts in your head and the
words in your heart,
let them get pushed aside along with the lace of your *******.
so you've been hurt,
haven't we all?

don't hide it behind their rock-hard excuses

jesus christ, get off your knees,
and demand what you deserve -
not the shallow breathlessness of these boys
(they love your tongue and your teeth, my girl
but not you)
and take what should be yours
(they love your tongue and your teeth, sweet girl
but not you)
and spit their lust
right back in their faces
and love for yourself
and love when you do
(not when you can)
and draw yourself up
and be your own beauty
and get off your knees
and remember.
Madeline Jun 2012
i wish i could
freeze
this moment
forever
save it
in a glass
like rain -
loving you,
so easy now
when i know
that someday
i'll need to love
the heroes in my stories,
the words on my page,
the tea in my cup and the
thoughts in my head
more than you.
i know that someday
i'll need them more,
and one of you will have
to crowd the other out.
and i don't want to lose my words.
i love you so much -
more than I thought i would ever love
anybody.
but i can't lose the words in my head.
i can't stop them bleeding onto pages.
i know you'd never ask if of me but
it would happen.

and i can't lose the words in my head.
i can't stop them bleeding onto pages.
not for you.
not for anybody.
Madeline Jun 2012
we were sisters, weren't we?
i remember when we were young -
everything was easy then, wasn't it?
before your beauty bloomed and
my plainness stayed,
before the curve of your hips and the sparks of your smile,
set my mother's heart on fire.

we were sisters, weren't we?
when we used to kneel by the hearth for fun,
digging up buried treasure,
sifting through the ashes with our clean-girl hearts,
laughing.

that was before the bitterness choked our home.

we were sisters, weren't we?
you used to crawl under the covers with me,
whisper ghost stories and laugh at me when i got scared.
i reflected your prettiness then,
it shone on me like
the sun on a mirror,
my glass face unmemorable and making yours
all the more dazzling
(not that we knew it:
we were both beautiful,
before we knew any better)

we were sisters, weren't we?
i held your hand when my mother cut you with her words,
i stood up for you when she worked you, i did.
i never once raised a word when you would come to my room,
crying and
raving about her.
i held you when your missing for your own mother rose up sharp in your heart, and i
defended you when my mother spread words like thorns in the villages.

i never once envied you your beauty.

we were sisters, weren't we?
and when that prince came for you,
laughing and
pebbling our window with stones,
i helped you shimmy out into his arms.
i would clean the mud off your shoes when you would stumble back in,
right before the sun came up,
i would put you to bed and make you tea to warm the early-morning chill out of your rose-pink cheeks,
and i waited for you that night you didn't come back.

we were sisters, weren't we?

and you left us.
Inspired by Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister
Madeline Jun 2012
it's one of the great sadnesses of my angsty teenaged existence,
                                                                                        that a man who saw all the good in the world


                                          was killed
                                          by all the bad in it.
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