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kassanaPoems
You talk of strangers? I've tested my own kind People protect themselves from thorns I've gained my injuries through flowers Since that day she made me mad Who cares if I bow my head To my lovers feet It's my head I put it where I like Call me heretic Cast me out then Every person is ready with a stone All ready to silence me Because I speak the truth I know what you don't Since that day she made me mad You talk of other people The world is full idolatry Worshipping idols and totems Have you ever worshipped the seed that grows from the ground? So stone me I would rather worship these stones That today you pelt me with Since that day she made me mad Mother, tell her not to call out the name of her dead friends so loudly in the middle of the night when I am gone I fear that this malicious world will say that my songs were evil Mother tell her to torment my very being ask her to shout out my name in the sand dunes of hell she will not change her stab wounds nor the way she sleeps sweating and curved Mother I cannot sleep.
0
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
Mother
You talk of strangers? I've tested my own kind People protect themselves from thorns I've gained my injuries through flowers Since that day she made me mad Who cares if I bow my head To my lovers feet It's my head I put it where I like Call me heretic Cast me out then Every person is ready with a stone All ready to silence me Because I speak the truth I know what you don't Since that day she made me mad You talk of other people The world is full idolatry Worshipping idols and totems Have you ever worshipped the seed that grows from the ground? So stone me I would rather worship these stones That today you pelt me with Since that day she made me mad Mother, tell her not to call out the name of her dead friends so loudly in the middle of the night when I am gone I fear that this malicious world will say that my songs were evil Mother tell her to torment my very being ask her to shout out my name in the sand dunes of hell she will not change her stab wounds nor the way she sleeps sweating and curved Mother I cannot sleep.
kassana
Written by
kassana
English
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
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