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If you take my sorry
I'll take the fall
I'll make the call
And choke on my blood

If you take my pleading
It'***** the wall
I'll lock the stall
And choke on my love

Please, ignore my stalling
I was so wrong
I was so wrong
Forget my memory

Forgive me
I hurt your soul
And you'll never know

Sorry is not enough
I was torn by ****
But now I must
It wasn't me
Not by will
Please don't choke on me
don't choke on me

His words
and tongue
are so warm
and He burns
an altar lit
on fire

His body is perfect
the blood is lurid
and bittersweet

every feature
even the subtlest
tempered to the grace
of nature’s requiem
made with the sole purpose
of temptation
every contour chiseled
with conviction bold

His sepia eyes
in their vintage
with a childlike elation
no longer present
in the cadaver
of a life i’m trapped in

His rose-tinted lips
held in a kind of

bold, sensual, soft
caress but never kiss
i finger his scars
and quietly nurse them

masochism, he wounds
but i want it
regardless of what
it entails

it’s being euthanized
i dare you to **** this
it’s because of
this sordid waltz
of fate and intention
that He’s never around
most of the time

and it’s worth it
it’s ignorance, oh blissful
it’s the pagan’s humble request
i will have this
some of the time?

His fight and fierceness
are unrivaled
like the solace of sleep
to those freezing

addiction, dependence, provocation
i’m washed in the tide
of His everlasting rimy breath
for a second
he reached out
and thawed me
hands interlaced
Our _ embraced

i scent
His body-
the unleavened
doused with
mulled wine
a redolence
of clove, nutmeg, anise
a steady undertone of black currant
and floral, rich sauvignon
the faintest vestige of bergamot
i inhale it all

i run my fingers
through His silken
sable hair

His existence, however,
holds sentiment
incomparable to His heart
there is only Him

He who hears like
the velvet snowflakes

He who lives like
the dark ink

He who smells like
mulled wine

even the quinine
finds itself too bitter
that it may yearn for
to drown
i’ve been going through a lot and this was my way of processing. ty for stopping by.

dedicated to Alison, Lana, Thien, and Tayden
It's so cold
In this dank wet prison
Where the Blue-Haired Monster
That fiend
That monger
Loves me with grave danger
Trapped in an unstable manger
My own maelstrom brought me down
He killed me
And He revived me
Then He'll **** me again
He doesn't talk
He speaks in giggles
... no
With cold
spindly fingers
and a tongue
of vile
The vanity drips
All over my face
Such a horrid taste







Thund­er and lightning
My Angel of Blue sings
A song that parts the sea
The rain of my pain
Works for my gain
A hurricane
The Blue Man can't see
My Angel of Blue wasn't dead
She was waiting for me instead
Through the waters
I rise
My salt water cries
Bring me to distant shores
His maelstrom traps me no more
If my depression was personified, he'd torture me repeatedly just because he can.
Stay where you are.
Locked in arrogant infancy,
You try to scream, but you stop.
You try to cry but drop
To your knees,
Begging to the unseen.
No more.

Hail the King of Fools.
The devils laugh and scorn.
Through chains, more fears are born.
You try to scream, but you stop.
You can't breathe.
Fighting the unseen.
No more.

Enslaved by your fears,
You try to scream, but you stop.
You cry.
You beg.
You breathe.
You squeal.
No more.
How it feels when depression wins.
Mince your words,
You've done it before.
Bow like you're in the presence of Royalty.
He's royal.
Lording over you, after all.
But he's short.
They're all short.
Yet you...
The self-proclaimed miser,
King of the words,
You have nothing of substance to say.
What a plot twist.
What a change.
You weakling.
Confidence doesn't suit you.
It doesn't match your eyes.
Hypocrisy, a great design on you.
It brings out the color
Of your lies.
Gabriela Dec 2018
I am a heirloom of my mother's sadness and my father's dreams
I am a shell filled with fears and wishes

I am a flower growing in the sidewalk
I am that person you walk past by when you're in a hurry to meet your lover
I am the friend who forgets your birthday but stays up late holding your hand

I am warm skin and quick heartbeat
I am a numb mind and shaky hands
I am burning tears falling over a smile

I am amor fati and memento mori
She would tell me
about this
young black horse
how he used to run
through the forests
finding spots to bury
the perception of infinite love.

My adventures towards it saddened

She would then also tell me
about how he died of a
lung cancer &
that the perception of
infinite love was still alive,
unburied, undecorated
as it is, as it was.

My adventures towards it sweetened.

- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Andrew Aug 2018
There are two kinds of lives
Examined and unexamined
So we see two kinds of drives
One of grace the other famine

Two lives
In the line
We call time
In a bind
Of the blind
Versus kind

We needed an example
Of how to be nice
Though those were ample
We found Jesus Christ
To lead the way
Through the fray
Until the day
He was slain
And died for our sins
Because the bad guy wins

Now when
Holy men
Goal tend
We bend
To their end
As they send
Us to mend
A devil's den
That is of their apocryphal creation
Of which they deny any relation

There are no angels and demons
Only people who are the reason
For this devilish season
And those who are not
Are caught
In the empire crossfire
Until they retire

Floating through life peacefully
Treating everyone equally
The people at the steeple see
Ways to help through deep beliefs
But others pervert it
To divert it
And insert it
Into hateful ideology
That falls onto me

The imposition of their will
Is how they get their fill
Becoming jaded predators
Not caring who must be killed
Our pain doesn't register
Once we're billed
Cash in till
Their heart goes still

Pain lingers
From bane stingers
Of shame singers
And grave bringers
Using ***** fingers
As blame flingers

The righteous save brothers
The wicked blame others
The two became lovers
To hide pain under covers
Because the righteous
Want to be like Jesus
Once the wicked fight us
The righteous leave us
To turn the other cheek
Until we're up **** creek

Plenty of people act like Jesus unintentionally
And live life exceptionally
Others study religion fervently
Yet continue hurting me
This dichotomy
Is odd to me
Do we need God to see
A way to be?

The real dichotomy is net negatives versus net positives
Though we may never conceive
A measurement I still believe
This battle exists
Our actions persist
But the only judgement we'll receive
Is in the way we're perceived
Yet society's goals aren't the same as humanity's
I know it sounds like insanity
But we act counterintuitively
Like the lawyers suing me
So they can get theirs
While saying life isn't fair
Which may be true
But only because of them
So my frustration grew
Once I saw the problem's stem

I wanted to be a good person
But then I got headaches
And bad breaks
From high stake
Growing jaded
After society graded
My endeavors slated
As failures awaited
I became one of them
A broken gem
Can someone please save me
From remaining the same me?
Or will I spend my time
As part of the grime
Not reading the signs
Until the day I die?
tyja the cat Jul 2018
you love like a fir
keep me shaded from the heat
crush me when you fall
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