1 Poetry

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saintedmad
saintedmad 20 Jul 2016 Tag: confession

A the devil's beautiful morning sun

fool’s God. it is so bright i cannot open my eyes. i need to be small and die where he cannot reach me. and i must do something better than weep in order to be seen, and i must be sighed in a language not yet known. … i must feel strange now, like pity or penance, and perhaps...

saintedmad
saintedmad 03 Nov 2014 Tag: confession

A lamentations 1:2

O hole like a beautiful afterlife belly cool to the fingers. and the other-girl trees bend and sway without a sound. [the circle of an empty hand] and the thing in me dies so quietly. God. you wouldn't even notice. i cannot take the rain with me. i would give up life for your...

saintedmad
saintedmad 30 Jul 2014 Tag: confession

A i moan these

warm nowhere is taking over. that place where the sun stabs me. waiting for you is silence. as if dying must be done and i can only feign those fingers walking on my breath. faithful mortality i fling this to the entire circles moving in the hells. .. .. and why should i be...

saintedmad
saintedmad 12 Jul 2014 Tag: confession

A roseborn daughter ought to be red

i have torn my dress down, bloodpink stem, me, the girl, like a flower; ranunculus. some words have been grown from the petals and said backwards for the moon and his burning. i cannot believe for an instant that he isn't watching. even now. even when, with repentant breath, i turn...

saintedmad
saintedmad 15 Jul 2011 Tag: confession

A elegant words aligning the death of my stars

elegant words: one ought to wait and gather sweetness and something more poetic than mere words strung like black beads on meaningless string. they should mean a whole life. innate. the root of all. and if possible, i will witness that first star, before it shoots itself, scream into...

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