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galatea Jun 2014
Goosebumps bloomed on her limbs
like the plague
and this was a relief
she had been waiting for,
ever since her mother
put her hands on her
and turned an angel into a firestorm.
galatea Jun 2014
Colossal wings of striking,
soft white feathers
erupted from her pale shoulder blades,
divine and substantial.
Wings.  
She had wings.
She hated her wings.
Daddy used to call her
his angel. But she knew
she was no angel.
  Jun 2014 galatea
imadeitallup
Blame it on
Your absent father
Your addict mother
Your unexpected children
Blame it on
Anyone, and anything
So you never have to
Take responsibility
For your own actions

It's the whiskey
That hit me
It's my own shards
That tore me apart
It's a malevolent God
That lied about love
'Cause you don't do anything

Blame it on
My fragile psyche
My insecurities
My "impossible" needs
Blame it on
Anyone, and anything
So you never have to
Take responsibility
For what you've done to me

It's the cigarettes
That stole my breath
The weight of my expectations
That broke my trust
The spinning of my own wheels
That drove me into madness
'Cause you don't do anything
Everyone has a **** like this in their life.
galatea Jun 2014
I never really
believed in God
until I looked into your eyes
for the first time.
Because I swear
I have never seen anything
more transcendent and godlike
than the celestial firestorm
in your eyes,
when you see me, taciturn and stripped,
my body claimed yours.
Yours, since the first blaze
flickered inside you.
Despite your divinity,
you drove a saint to drink.
But maybe it was unintended;
it’s not your fault
your lips
taste like wine.
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