Forsaken

Forgive me father, for I have sinned

I have fallen into capitalism and am 

tired of searching for 

blood in the 

grass.

My children have forgotten your name

But I am not sorry.

I lie in filth

Blood frothing with every cough

There are no answers for me

Alas, I have more questions!

Where is my love when the 

world has gone cold?

Where is my hope in a god

that is dead?

People stopped believing

I stopped caring

I met a man the other day

I wanted to be his bride

My ring lies in a 

thousand pieces

Scattered around my shower drain

I still feel his warmth beside me

Feel him inside me

Gripping my skin

Oh blessed father

I live in sin

I believe you hold no salvation

My blood smears these pages

Sanctifying my signature

I am the forsaken.

Antione

in the passenger seat
the mists creep into my brain
as the lights draw lines in the sky
you watch me
silent, beautiful one

in a crowded restaurant
my thoughts wander...
trivial fragments you love to hear
but my silence echoes off noisy walls
and you wonder.

now I sit and watch your soul
my artist
your appreciation
my tired eyes falling before you
"are you in there?"

chop off my mane - I'm finished
life as a house in reconstruction
but you are there
silently watching, wondering
if perhaps....perhaps I'll create art

art for the artist
pastel colors creating something deep
something other than what they were intended
but you love it
because it's me

in your passenger seat
I quietly reflect
we are alone, together
as I am in your mind...for once I'm understood
because it's you