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Jenny 21h
“and he will rule over you.”

I am not ready to release my religion
the consistency of it has grown with me
i am afraid
if i unleash it from my soul
the preached darkness will consume it
i am afraid
that the possibility of its factuality and actuality
will hover in the atmosphere at noon
i am afraid
that by dismissing *** too soon
he will dismiss me

Ironically, with my gaining of knowledge,
i have come to begrudge the man in the sky
who has cursed my *** to serve man
to be taken out of man, to exist only within man
he has given a text for those to quote
when arguing the entrapment of women
how am i to recognize the being
when he has ****** me
to be at the elbow of an entire gender
has blamed my kind for the original sin of sins
The Bible has shaped the complications of communities
it has manipulated the societies that barely function
it has forced people to fight for the basic rights all should hold
how am i to forgive such sins committed against my kind?
to accept the influences of a book that is hundreds of years old
that still governs my everyday life?
the separation of church and state has been ignored
girl gonzo Sep 30
silk blouses and cotton underwear
the nights merge into a sticky soup that falls into the pocket of a sweater i was wearing when they said that death is permanent
the voice echoing into the receiver of my first cell phone
the wavering tremble of someone in the middle of realms
sleep and consciousness turning the other side of the pillow
wondering if the smoke in my lungs felt comfortable
wonder if the moon sinks lower into your backyard
i was never good at distinguishing shadows and when i found myself on the dark side of the mattress;
my feet cold and feeble i wondered if you could hear my heart a thousand miles away
the fluttering of a drowsy bird, lethargically dragging it's clumsy wings into the plummeting stifle of open air
you said my lips were like the halves of a plum
i bit them until they bled but it was never as sweet
it was never as sweet
there's irony in the title
turn my skin to sand and blow away
the ache in that time with your subtle irony
that ghostly fire that now butterflys my soul

good bye
Mitch Prax Sep 12
Sometimes,
the knives in our backs
are the only things
keeping us upright;
Who'd have thought
betrayal could be our
greatest asset?
How ironic.
AD Mullin Sep 5
Working your way out of ionic ******* can be
seriously interesting however, it can also be
lugubrious.

I was standing in the aisle at Bulk Barn.
Being low on neutrinos, I was looking to stock up
As I I like to sprinkle them on my cereal in the morning. Next

I made my way down the aisle to where the anti-photons are found.
If you like your coffee black and not sweet, as I do
This is almost as good as other alternatives. I did realize that

My electron supply was fine
But thought I'd get some anyway
Just for the ion-y.

I don't understand the economics in this transaction
but it is apparent the invisible hand does.
When the clerk looked in my basket, I was sine-waved through.
Working my way out of ionic *******, lol
Amanda Sep 2
Maybe our relationship would have been better
If you had gone down to Idaho
Maybe you would not have changed into
This person I barely know

Maybe you would have been different inside
Willing to put up with me
Not this guy who is trying to mold
Me into the shape he wants me to be

Maybe you would still be madly in love
Maybe you would not have left me alone
Maybe you would still feel how
You did when you surprised me with that phone

You stayed, and this is how it worked out
This is the price I pay for needing you
I got exactly what I wished for but
Now I wish it hadn't come true
Be careful what you wish for... Aint that the truth?!
Bragi Aug 11
Ignorance is bliss;
Sweeter than any kiss.
It’s an unfair kind of careless care.
This idea of something you missed,
Where?
A tear which never needed to be known,
There. In the mirror. Wipe away the smudges and it becomes visible,
Clearer. Shown in a smile that some would call naive. But you don’t because Ignorance is richer.
Your ears burn bright but you believe all is well, that all is right, so you continue your life like a phone in a theatre. Beating on the drum of negligence, perfectly pitching yourself as a heedless, harmonious heap; inauspiciously and ironically thinking ones self, misguidedly, meticulous. Inadvertently beautiful.
Ignorance is bliss.
writerReader Feb 2015
lovely
just lovely
great
how great
marvelous
Silverflame Aug 5
They call me the angel child;
and I suppose at some point, I once was one.
But my demons have cut off my wings a long time ago.
Kind of ironic.
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