Tell me the good word.
Let it spin on your tongue, then spit it out!
Don't tell me it's God.
Dear God, it better not be God!
I don't want the story where the sun rose,
and all was well with the light.
Tell me about your night.
Tell me how things grew blacker and blacker,
how all your demons came out of nowhere,
how they all had this dead, hungry stare, and you were the bearer,
and how they ate you up.
Tell me then of your escape,
nothing left but eyes and half a soul.
I don't want the story where you live and walk away.
I want to see you run and run and run and
WAKE!
Like a slap across the face!
Tell me your good word.
Here's one: Hungry
Here's another: Escape
Here's mine:
Dead.
YOU ARE READING
Bent Roses
PoezieBent Roses is a poetry collection about familial devotion, love, and misery. It is about those nights when everyone gets home late and the first thing they say to each other is good morning. It is about believing in another person when you shouldn't...
