help me
the nights have been dark and stormy
the air is chilly
the walls are caving in on me
i can't smell the roses anymore
i long for the day my knees are no longer sore
from kneeling, praying
atoning
for
my insecurities and
blemishes
what more do i need to do
to free myself from these chains
—no, please, stop, don't come near—
pull a string of self-loathe from my ear
(and back)
on goes in my head the hullabaloo
train is bound for insane
thoughts because i forgot how to love
myself.
mama says i just need to wait five
more months but i can't wait
to swipe the malice off my bookshelf
burn everything when the rain no longer pours
help me tell her if i go crazy
i'll make sure it is just me, the fire and definitely
the gods' paradise
YOU ARE READING
Harlequin
Poetrycome indulge in voluminous daydreams and help yourself on raging tidal emotions. • poetry collection
