Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
and these waves              of longing                   are burning me               into stumbled            desert trances   as I crawl, parched upon         earth that              sears and spears                  my limbs                         my inner organs,                              once wet                                with the fire              of my blood now only ashen embers          the very salt                of the sum of               my wounds lacerated open -    barely held by         a secret tourniquet             wrapped tight, ******* me         in reverse tempest and I clamor within my being move in jolts, like a voodoo dance              zombie girl stuck in the hell of no-woman's land a landscape of spires   piercing me hot making the sharpened path dangerous for strangers As for me, I can only succumb to their scalding roast if I want to somehow get out alive, my skin charred from that branding of insults my heart scarred from countless lashes that your serpent's tongue has inflicted upon me              This. is not the pleasure of being tethered tender flesh teased   until writhing                    This.           is not the grind           of earthen fire            and sky mixed      with underwater lava, swarming cloistered whispers    into my brain temperatures                 This. is not the conflagration of love seeds developing into a ripe field of the succulence of lustfruit             This.           Is just an         attempt    to wear down the goddess in me      And to that           I say           No. I turn the other cheek to your barbed wire lies. In the frequencies of the next universe over, an echo bursts into flames rapidly oxidizing, licking into            nourishment the rebirth    of my own     divinity
0
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
this.
and these waves              of longing                   are burning me               into stumbled            desert trances   as I crawl, parched upon         earth that              sears and spears                  my limbs                         my inner organs,                              once wet                                with the fire              of my blood now only ashen embers          the very salt                of the sum of               my wounds lacerated open -    barely held by         a secret tourniquet             wrapped tight, ******* me         in reverse tempest and I clamor within my being move in jolts, like a voodoo dance              zombie girl stuck in the hell of no-woman's land a landscape of spires   piercing me hot making the sharpened path dangerous for strangers As for me, I can only succumb to their scalding roast if I want to somehow get out alive, my skin charred from that branding of insults my heart scarred from countless lashes that your serpent's tongue has inflicted upon me              This. is not the pleasure of being tethered tender flesh teased   until writhing                    This.           is not the grind           of earthen fire            and sky mixed      with underwater lava, swarming cloistered whispers    into my brain temperatures                 This. is not the conflagration of love seeds developing into a ripe field of the succulence of lustfruit             This.           Is just an         attempt    to wear down the goddess in me      And to that           I say           No. I turn the other cheek to your barbed wire lies. In the frequencies of the next universe over, an echo bursts into flames rapidly oxidizing, licking into            nourishment the rebirth    of my own     divinity
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gazrc-E8eNk Inner death? Not today.
lora-lee
Written by
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem