Bleeding Fingers

Poetry

My poor bleeding fingers
Emptiness lingers
Traces on the bed sheets
He found me, made me shiver
Torn into little pieces like a tissue
Used too many times- unsuitable for wiping tears
Falling apart

He was a demon, thirsty incubus
Succumbed to his sweet talk
Made me think the unthinkable
I wanted to kill him but he kept moving so quickly
Teeth bulged through the bed sheets
No voices- just dripping
My questionable christening

He obliged to be my God
I tried to sob out that I lost my religion
But I couldn’t stop being his open scissors
I want to become clean again
The martyrdom stains are like ink
He called me his dirty, filthy bitch
Choking on his hard omnipotence

Finally finished, he left with a smile
Shut the door, I heard the lock
For the time being, he’s gone

I touch myself and stared into bleeding fingers
He captured me and now I serve
I wish I knew for how long, the contract was never given
Little bird in the cage, without a feeder
If only I could escape
And take his heart out with my poor little fingers

Advertisements

Innocence

Poetry

Filthy devil in an angel’s costume
Hovering around my shoulder:
“Innocent souls get eaten alive
I know how you lived a holy life
But now it’s time for you to die”

“Pack responsibilities away
Close the lid, say your goodbyes
Fade into the mist like a ghost
Float into the town of snow”

“Silent whispers lead you in
Serpents come to taste your sin
Cause no one needs your innocence”

“You are like a toy to play with
Stay where you are- don’t make a move
gourmets will sever your tongue into two”

“Angels and devils, we are all the same
Playing with death is our favourite game
Now you can’t shout for God to appear
No one will save you- no one will care”