GOD.

Reads: 277  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Gave everything to you

Social distancing in the confessional, begging Father for forgiveness,

 

Praying to the Holy Spirit, yet the answers lie in the distillery, not the sky.

 

AM prayers via the lungs, Pm prayers via the stomach, incurable sickness,

 

Gave up everything to dedicate my life to you, so why did you still damn me?

 

Broken bottles and broken promises, failure to practice as I preach,

 

Tower of Babel size dick fucking my hypothalamus, worldwide dopamine hit.

 

Token of the group, this cross noose on my neck symbolizes nothing but lies,

 

So far good that it became bad, evicted from the Garden of Eden, with extreme prejudice.

 

Penumbra cast under my preorbitals, all nighters studying trying to mitigate anxiety,

 

If I wake up tomorrow it’ll be a tragedy, If I die in my sleep it’ll be a comedy.

 

Try to walk away but you never let me, hands turning into California earthquakes,

 

Six years a slave, but the master doesn’t break the law, despiting acting monstrously.

 

Acupuncture on your coffin, straight edged lungs bent by secondhand from fags,

 

Extra breaks from the workplace, extra strength painkiller, throw away the tylenol.

 

Feel you inside of me, swimming in my red sea, invisible among the populace,

 

Two sets of footsteps becomes one, when you carried me after I lost consciousness.

 

Prayer time contractions, just like hunger pangs, but they’re inside my brain,

 

Bursitis in both knees, following God in the AM, to disobeying God in PM.

 

Don’t ask why one hand is feminized, and I won’t tell what you do at night,

 

These pristine floors are about to dyed crimson, knife on the skin an act of forgiveness.

 

Seven Sins in Seven Days, that’s Fourteen sins in a fortnight,

 

Stacking sin upon sin like Tetris, just one fuck up and it’s Game Over.

 

Sacking cities in your name, packing heat in the stores when I’m desperate

 

To feel your warmth on the inside, if I feel a disconnect, prepare for DEFCON 1.

 

Social distancing in the confessional, begging Father for forgiveness,

 

Praying to the Holy Spirit, yet the answers lie in the distillery, not the sky.

 

AM prayers via the lungs, Pm prayers via the stomach, incurable sickness,

 

Gave up everything to dedicate my life to you, so why did you still damn me?

 


Submitted: May 14, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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Comments

tom mcmullen

Some classic lines in this one M W may be you should pray to the Virgin?

Thu, May 14th, 2020 9:08am

Author
Reply

Thanks for reading Tom!

Wed, May 20th, 2020 10:02pm

Compass Girl

This is incredible, MW
XO CG

Fri, May 15th, 2020 12:49am

Author
Reply

Thanks for reading, CG!

Wed, May 20th, 2020 10:02pm

Sharief Hendricks

What a sombre and beautiful piece, MW...

Sad, yet thought provoking as it is unfortunately a topical issue indeed...

Loved it!

Mon, October 19th, 2020 11:10am

Author
Reply

One of my favorites from this year, thanks for reading!

Wed, October 21st, 2020 10:54pm

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