Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned

For those of you who may have further reach on the internet than other viewers, you may notice the same works posted on Young Writers Society under the username “Biluata”. That is me, Catty, just with a different name! I like to post in both places, since on YWS, the entire premise of the site is to get your works reviewed and review the works of others. If any of you are interested, I highly encourage you to check it out.)

On a slightly different note, I’ve been playing around with poetry, but posting it has been difficult since for some reason, once I paste my work into here, the formatting changes. Please be patient while I figure out how to keep my original formatting. 

I don’t really want to write,

As my paper, paper heart burns slowly with the

Cigarette butts you press softly against my chest.

They burn and ache and flame and you croon-

Hush love, it’s gonna be okay.

And the cage around the steady drumbeat of an organ

That doesn’t want to work anymore,

Expands and contracts with each grudging breath.

How is it that my mind wants that sweet oblivion,

But my body keeps on keeping on,

Just the way it was taught.

I don’t really want to write,

This sad, sad poetry because the internet is

Plagued by heart sorrow,

Everyone trying to be heard-

Trying to make their voices MATTER.

I don’t want to be remembered.

Your life is not your own,

It is not you who will suffer once you are gone,

It is not you who will feel the hurt

The gap,

Of a living, breathing person who lives and breathes no longer,

Your life is not your own.

But I’m hurting now and it’s funny because we never get to see our worth until the worst has come and washed over us like the tide and we’re lost and drifting and no one reaches out their hand to pull us from the quagmire of our minds, it is just us-

The broken. A thousand glittering stars in the sky winking out one by one

As humanity marches on, another eager conformist stepping up

To fill our gap in the parade.

So I didn’t really want to write,

But these words, they-

Eat at me, consume me with their weight until my brain rips itself apart,

Trying to find the perfect wording,

A rhythm just right to enunciate the pain lingering in the broken abyss

That used to contain the immensity of my love, my love.

My love.

Goodbye, my love.

I have decided,

That my life is my own and-

It is not yours to keep.

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Published by

Kalsooni

Hey! Kalsooni Allskye here, sometimes known as Cattydragon. To introduce myself ... I'm generally a very sarcastic person prone to sudden musings in the middle of dull conversations as well as that mad dash for some paper and pen when a sudden idea hits. I enjoy a great deal of music and reading, but I don't so much enjoy social outing. So there you go! A bit 'bout me.

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