i had to stuff my own kind of bible down
my throat and swallow: i'm not a visual
learner. it's left me with a lacking, lackluster
half-hearted belief in something,
somewhere. i don't know what exactly
that means, and i don't know if i care
enough to find out. i don't have any bibles
left and i'm uneasy holding yours. i've
been winging everything up until
now. your god isn't mine, i don't
want him to hold me, just you.
YOU ARE READING
soft light
Poesíai just want to feel okay again. poems written circa 2017-2020. what a wacky time to exist. if a lot of these seem unhinged it's probably because most of them were written while i was in a very abusive relationship. tw for occasional themes of addict...
