i can feel my ichor fading to water
and i don't know what to do
what am i supposed to do?
how am i supposed to cope?
when fantasy is not reality
when these stupid gods are stupidly human
when every ounce of gold is rotten
how am i expected to just throw it all away?
the only thing that allowed room for hope
the only reason i didn't let the sulfur drown me
and i have to watch it disappear?
how am i expected to take their bread and water
to worship their spoilt milk and honey
when i have tasted the ambrosia?
when i have felt it drip off my tongue?
i can't go back to the life before
i do not want to drown in sulfur
but what choice is there?
i can not stop ichor from fading into water
or stop reality from setting in
or make these stupid humans divine
i can not paint the rot gold
no—i can only choke on their spoilt milk
and drown all over again
YOU ARE READING
wilting roses
PoetryAnother collection of (bad) poems. *tw: mentions of sexual assault, drug use, drinking, suicidal ideation and self harm* -a collection of poems that document my experiences with my mental health throughout high school. a warning: i had a few undiagn...
