written by: J. G. Elas
I aspired to be good, better.
For you. I slept with the devil,
ate with the angels, saw myself
burn in a pyre of tongues
stretching from the ground-up.
I drunk the wine and quenched
the thirst deep in my throat.
I felt the red water flowing
down my pipe but I still gulped
for more, for more that never
came. I wiped my tears and still
my eyes bled from the sword,
at my back, pierced deep and
coiling; lashing my skin open for
the vultures flying above my head.
I saw us veiled under a blanket,
the moon’s soft white light,
but something inside me gnawed
its claws out, ripping the thin
sheet of my skin open with the
need to know: was I not good?
Was I not enough for you?
Latest posts by J. G. Elas (see all)
- New Beginnings - March 4, 2019
- Anything But - January 25, 2019
- Falling Star - September 17, 2018