Go to church
Push through the wooden doors
Straighten the creases of
My best Sunday dress
All eyes look at me
Every pupil in stained glass
Dilates with each breath I take
A Saint stares me down
"Repent."
The temperature is rising
I feel my cheeks flush a crimson red
Beads of sweat roll down my face
I press my back
Into the pew behind me
Temptation is irresistible
I can see
The mark of Catholic immorality
Resist it.
Suddenly I find myself
Gasping for air
I must go, for
I'm a sinner
I have to leave the church.
A/N: Gotta love ✨religious trauma.✨ While I don't practice religion anymore, I will never disrespect those who do. We must love all, regardless of who they are. Everyone deserves to feel love.
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Pleasure or Pain? (Poetry)
PoetryI call this my book of chaos; my sanctuary. When the turmoil inside of me resurfaces, when I've surpassed my tipping point, putting my jumbled thoughts and conflictions into words gives back the control I initially lost.
