Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Morgan Gail Jul 18
I don’t ask for forgiveness like I used to
as if it were my god given right
to be right
but I left you with a fistful of thorns when I should have given you flowers
well the July fires are nothing compared to the words that I have said
maybe I don’t ask for forgiveness because I feel like I just don’t deserve it
maybe that’s all there is to it
I wish I could say that my bark was worse than my bite
lace a crown of forget me nots for me
fasten it into my hair with strings
so that I can remember to be sweet
Morgan Gail Jun 18
I grew out my hair
So old lovers wouldn’t recognize me
Maybe if there were some
Physical evidence of growth
I wouldn’t be the same person
I was four years ago
Begging someone to love me
So now I braid flowers into my hair
Now I adorn myself in everything
That actually loves me back
Because old lovers pale in comparison
To the things that I now have eyes for
And yes
I still have dreams of old friends
And everyone I’ve ever loved
Up until now I felt like I just always picked the wrong people
But now I’m thinking that that’s just life
And I will love and lose and love again
The red thread that connects me to you
Wraps around me one too many times
So I cut myself loose
Now it’s just so much easier to breathe
Morgan Gail May 5
I took my anger and laced it
all around me like a corset
only because I thought the posture
would be more appealing
than my soft spoken disposition
but isn’t it beautiful to be soft
can’t I be vulnerable
and can’t that be a part of my divinity
praises echo in my sanctuary heart
and life flows through me
the meek shall inherit the earth
and I will shamelessly weep at your feet
sometimes it’s so hard just to exist
in this body
and my spirit knows the day is coming where I part from it
but here I am, a home
everything that I touch grows
since I’ve shed enough tears
to water my garden
for the years to come
press the petals to my lips
I want to be soft
like this
I want a soul so gentle
it makes even the harshest man stop where he is, and cry
so why does my kindness get mistaken
for weakness when I had to be braver
than anyone could have expected me to be
I thank god for the way that I broke
I hope it gave way for the light in me
to reach somebody else
in all of its sincerity
Morgan Gail Jul 2018
i don't expect you to come back. in fact, i wish i could find a way out of my own skin. i wish i could leave me. i wish i were a stranger, someone i've seen only in passing, feeling secondhand embarrassment watching my own reactions. stumbling, grabbing onto everyone around me out of desperation for some kind of balance. it's the same way when i'm drunk, but only then does this feeling that i'm suffering somehow lift up off of my chest for a while. but what is it that hurts me. what is it that burdens me. aren't i safe now. my mother tells me depression comes from a lack of faith, as does anxiety. i've been in churches my whole life but the hymns haven't stomped out the fire i feel under me. the sense of danger. my mind is always telling me to run like i'm gonna die if i dare try to defy it. mother Mary sits on a rosary but she doesn't say anything. i sit in sanctuaries and i always cry from an overwhelming sense of gratitude that it could get better, but it never really gets better. so i have only hope that if i just keep calling, i'll eventually hear the answer. i dug myself into a hole when i rebuked you for saying i was cold, but the truth is that i really am. i can be such a harsh woman. when i was six, i would pick at my scabs, and i still open old wounds as if the blood is more attractive than the scar. i am always reaching for something beautiful, only to get handfuls of thorns. i'm still hanging roses up on my walls, something dead yet pleasing. and my books are all filled with pressed flowers but i still have no real use for them. i'm always holding onto empty, dead things, but i inherited a stubbornness that wrings them out into nothingness, waiting for the rain to fall from a cloudless sky. there is nothing for me here.
Morgan Gail Jul 2018
you are a church filled with hymns
the voices of sinners
humming in unison
the tears that fall
in remembrance
of every transgression
forgive us, Father
we are so lost
we've no idea what we are doing
i am only apologies
draped over soft bone
a false pretense
that dead flowers only
need more watering
press the petals to my lips
i want to be soft like this
i want to be beautiful
like this
i lost my words
in a strangers mouth
outside of a sanctuary
and my throat still burns
from the alcohol
i bet i'd be easier to love
if i pulled out my teeth
so my bluff would always
be worse than my bite
rosy bruises unkind
to my knees
yet i preach
humble me, humble me, bring me
as low as i need to be
to feel the earth shake
when i hear your name
i am but a nervous spirit
chewing my skin back
i just wanted there to be
less of me
i just want to look
less like me
Morgan Gail Jul 2018
we've taken our salvation into our own hands
it's no wonder we've turned to worshipping alcohol and ***
you see, the Godless are never truly godless
we just become our own gods
wrap every beautiful thing around your wrists
draping like precious stones
until it becomes unholy
we bruise any purity with our splintered hands
raising our empty buildings
cathedrals where we all stand
we pledge our allegiance
to "self"
and to flags
adopting false idols
raising them to be like us
until they start looking just like us
well, a god just like me would be a fearsome being
that god would have killed everybody
including itself
inheriting my self-destructive tendencies
i've built myself up so much
in my attempt to feel worthy
it's a wonder my spine doesn't snap
from all the weight
an altar with one too many golden statues adorned
wasn't i supposed to be past everything
wasn't i supposed to be reborn
i guess we're never so far from our mortality
that we can truly be safe without our boundaries
Morgan Gail Feb 2018
can i be close to You again
or have i ruined myself so much
that You don't even recognize me
sometimes i don't even recognize
myself when i look into the mirror
my dearest friend
i want to come back home
but i'm not sure i'm welcomed
there anymore
if i could just hold on to
the hem of your coat
maybe i'd go back to who i used to be
maybe the familiar feeling would awaken that faith inside of me
i used to have a sense of freedom
within Your arms
i wanted to stay there
i didn't want to leave
i know these past few years
i've adopted a lot of self destructive tendencies
as if they were my family
they all live with me and
god, how they run me into the ground
it's the voice singing me to sleep
when no one else is around
Next page