A beautiful truth

The literati mafia

I often wish you knew my truth—
knew it intimately, intensely and let
it burn incandescently in your veins,
molten lava flowing, a glacier of glaring crimson
gently moving, affecting, astonishing you.

I often wish you knew me before
you let the hammer strike,
scream, ‘Guilty!’
I often wish you haunted the corridors
I haunt, wish you looked in the scarred
mirror I look in, claw marks and tears
that made me bleed, that ripped flesh
and tore ligament.

They say truth is beautiful
but I wish you knew my truth.
They say love conquers all
but I wish you knew that there’s no
love when you’re imprisoned in a cage,
a blue bird turned raven,
songs turning into shrieks and caws.

I often wish you took my place,
knew what walking to Golgotha really meant,
knew an emotional crucifixion,
a nail pierced soul for nobody’s
redemption, not even mine.

View original post 81 more words

Posted In:

3 Comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.