Purge
-
I wake up,
Filled with the rage
That could only belong to
My father's daughter.
Overflowing from my lips,
Curling the edges of my existence.
Flowers wilt at my arrival,
And birds silence themselves.
They silence themselves.
I dig through my shelves;
Dig through cupboards desperately,
Trying to find the antidote.
A solution to the blood
With which I was created.
My touch burns things
I know I love outside of anger.
This isn't me,
I plead with the universe.
Grabbing a notebook in panic.
I begin scribbling nonsense,
Letting the words sear into the pages.
The birds begin chirping again,
Quietly.
The flowers quiver,
But bring their color back to me.
A temporary solution
To a lifelong ailment,
My grandmother had taught me.
When the darkness overtakes her light,
I reach for that little notebook.
Full of burns,
Bleeding with sins,
A hand to hold the damned.
My little book of miracles.
x
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..@nosebleedclub April 21st- Book of Miracles