ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature
apostasy
before he led me like a lamb
to the altar,
he got me drunk.
take this and eat, he said,
hands on my hipbones,
soft thighs, soft sigh
for this is my body -
but he gave me no bread, only
bruises, and he gave me
new thorns for my head
and i bled
till sunday morning.
tell me:
who speaks of resurrection?
are you there,
mary magdalene?
mary, when
will easter come?
Literature
not a poem
my depression is not a fucking poem
it is not just
the grayest of grays
or the darkest of nights
or the boy who didn't love me
its not worth any of those titles
and i'm not going to make cigarettes
look like medicine between my teeth
just because i am sad
i don't need to be told that the sky
is beautiful
or that the ocean
is beautiful
or that i
am beautiful
i do not want to hear about
the millions of different colors that the sky makes
at a certain hour,
and i do not want to hear
there is a tiny world trapped inside of my rib cage
i don't need to be told that the universe
cares and loves me deeper than my own mother
i know all of these
Literature
broken fever
the first time a boy
smoked too many
cigarettes because
of me, he became
a man. he coughed
my blood into his
palms, tasted my
iron & grit, his tongue
finally learned the
inside of my body.
he clutched his chest
and felt only my heart-
beat. the pulse of a
moving car is one akin
to racing cattle or maybe
just a fever the moment
before its break.
i do not know what it
means to break; only
to burn out like a brilliant
star, or just another
addict’s mistake.
Suggested Collections
Comments35
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I love this. It hits hard.
I favorited this after those first two lines. I knew it was going to be great, and I wasn't disappointed.
I favorited this after those first two lines. I knew it was going to be great, and I wasn't disappointed.