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Emma Oct 2018
Silked lips
Below black drips
Wilted snow
Around an upturned nose
Another sophomore poem. Jesus, last year, I sure wrote a lot of depressing poems. I was gonna add more, but I feel like the shortness makes the message of a sad female perfect, especially the black drips representing mascara ruined by tears. It also feels a tad Japanese female crying out her makeup lol.
Emma Oct 2018
I am the shine of your iris,
Yet the cause of your virus.
You chose to imprint my face,
Yet you have attempted to erase.
Another poem I made sophomore year. For some reason, lots of my works sophomore year were abusive or depressing....hmm.
Emma Oct 2018
Mistreatment, abandonment, corruption, exploitation,
Things that have been done, without any explanation.
Blue down the face, red down the brain,
Creating a purple, pleasurable feeling, of cruelty in perverted vain.
Yet the pleasure is reversed, for it was just an excuse,
For the deepest excuse that came from the most purple bruise.
I made this sophomore year. I believe I made the word "purchistic" up, and, no, I have no idea what purchistic means. Judging by the repeating "pleasure" wordplay, I think it was a combination of "purple" and "masochistic".
Emma Oct 2018
THORNED CROSS OF SCARLET TEARS,
OH HOW THY HAVE KNEELED TO THOU THROUGHOUT THE YEARS.
THOU SMOOTH BEADS THAT SWIRL AROUND THOU NECK OF THE HOLY SON,
OH HOW THY HAVE REPEATED “OUR FATHERS” AND “HAIL MARYS” FOR THOU PATRIARCHAL CREATOR ABOVE.
LOVING HANDS THAT SHALL SHOW THOU THE LADDER TO HEAVEN,
OH HOW THY BELIEVES WINGS WILL PREVAIL OVER THOU TAIL OF SATAN.
CIRCLES OF GOLD AND ASCENDED WINGS,
OH HOW THY AWAITS FOR THOU REDEMPTION THOU SHALL BRING.
FEMININE CANDLES TO AWAIT THOU FEMININE ACT OF BIRTH,
OH HOW THY LIFTS THE FOUR CANDLES FOR ALL THOU IS WORTH.
THE WINE THAT CAME FROM THOU WATER,
OH HOW THY SHALT TELL THOU MIRACLE TALE TO THOU DAUGHTER.
WHITE AND BLUE ROSES OUR LADY OF HELP REQUESTS AT HER FEET FOR HER BIRTHDAY,
OH HOW THY BUYS FLOWERS FOR THOU NEXT TIME THY AND THOU MEET.
HEART PROTECTED BY THE SHIELD OF THE HOLY SPIRIT’S GUIDANCE,
OH HOW THY NEVER BECOMES A VICTIM TO SUBSIDENCE.
WATER THAT SWIRLS INTO THE BLOOD OF CHRIST,
OH HOW THY REMEMBERS HOW THE SON SAVED US IN SIGHT.
BREAD THAT ENTERS THE BODY AND THUS THE SON HIMSELF,
OH HOW THY REMEMBERS TO REFLECT IN THYSELF.
EYES TOWARDS THE SKY IN HOPE OF MIRACLES,
HOW THE LIGHT IN THY VISION RETURNS SYMMETRICAL.
PAIN THAT DISAPPEARS LIKE THE AIR FROM THY LUNGS,
OH HOW THY REJOICES WITH THE WORDS THAT ROLL OF THY TONGUE.
PRAYING FOR THE HOPE THAT THOU SAVIOR PUSHES UNTO THY SOUL,
OH HOW THY GETS CLOSER TO THY GOAL.
REMEMBERING THE GRIM THAT THE CRUCIFIXION CAUSED THE SON WITH GRACE,
OH HOW THY IS STRUCKEN WITH TEARS DOWN THY FACE.
INVISIBLE MORTAL WINGS THAT SHALL ONE DAY BE SEEN AND RISE ABOVE,
OH HOW THY BELIEVES IN THE REDEMPTION BY THE DOVE.
I did this for a religion project last month, but had to scrap it and do a "I believe" statement instead. I didn't want this to go to waste, so here you go!
Emma Oct 2018
If thy could have any heavenly wish of love,
It’d be for wings that fly past the clouds above,
With feathers that stick to thy back like gloves.
Thy would show great amounts of authentic glee,
To have been able to float high enough to look down on any tree,
And to finally be able to say that thy is free.
But when thy daydreams of such beautiful futures,
The amount of thy's enthusiasm becomes fewer,
As thy remembers the metal around thy's legs won't get any looser.
I did this in September, but I think I did the thy parts wrong opps
Emma Oct 2018
Strings, strings, wrapping around porcelain skin,
For why does the bruises not show?
With a waist, hip, and two legs that are so thin,
For why does the skin always glow?
Hair that never sheds, nor grows, nor messes,
For why does the girl not wash it?
With a merry face that still never truly expresses,
For why does the face not show even a slight fit?
Stoic, conjoined, the feet never stomping,
For why does the limbs never feel frostbit?
Perhaps it is a lie that the being is a girl,
As it is only with strings that she can ever twirl.
I did this about two weeks ago, as the poem you gotta send in order to the join the site. I hope y'all liked it. Does this count as a Halloween story?

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