Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Neanis Roe Apr 2016
I'd champion peace
But it's too easily broken
Love?
By definition, ideal...
Oxytocin, that's real
Good and Evil?
False reprieval
Morals are pandemic deceit
Warped belief that apart from particles
Humanity matters
Our fathers vomited fact for sweet self-preservation
Stitching saviours from
Bygones of creation

In the end, I am my own
I will trod this path alone
Hollow to the bone
Until I decompose.

The truth?
I simply live
For fear of death.
Elizabeth Mar 2015
I came crashing into the stained glass window
Of your baptist church on a balmy Tuesday evening.
Its wings batted and rattled against the
Rigid kaleidoscope wall while you prayed your sins
Away while no one was looking.
But my primitive eyes dilated through your bones
And you felt my gaze as the incessant stinging sensation on the small of your back,
The same space my hand once occupied hours before you made the decision to make me a bird,
To swish me away with the back of your hand.
My stare hardened until you squirmed like a newborn
Under the beating fluorescents of your worship,
Begging for reprieval,
But not even God's light could forgive you now.

— The End —