i stare at the black dress that hangs from my ceiling it is beauty in the form of sheer black velvet i am beautiful in it too but i must forget what are flaws rolls of flesh that should be solid old scars, memories of both bad and good times too many flaws flaws thatContinue reading “belief”
Author Archives: thewandereroftheworlds
divinity
i feel holy when nature curls around me and humanity fades away
heaven
elysium would be a cool breeze brushing against my cheeks as I sit on that old hill of my family’s home the prairie grass would whisper to me as I look into the sky there would be vivid sunset of color painting my skin like a masterpiece a blanket wrapped around limbs like a warmContinue reading “heaven”
this body is covered in soft skin, your other is covered in iron scales
remember, girl you are a dragon in this world and in the next
goddess
in my veins, sorcery replaces my blood, electricity rushing through dark channels in my eyes, black holes replace my pupils, consuming all who dare to oppose my skin becomes unblemished marble, replacing a feeble husk covered in scars my hair becomes a cascade of starlight, burning the eyes of sinners with each wave my bonesContinue reading “goddess”
this child was born with magic in her veins
i live for tales of adventure tales of magic that are beyond comprehension of strange creatures that breathe flames and are as large as mountains of heroes, villains and everyone in between of long swords and jeweled daggers covered in blood of politics and division that end in war of kingdoms and empires that spanContinue reading “this child was born with magic in her veins”
medieval
they say, “that time is a time of blood and war” I nod, shrug and walk away i was born in the wrong age and they don’t know i would probably enjoy blood and war more than this
you would not want me to suffer in sadness because of your death
i wailed for days before you died but now, after there are no tears there is an empty spot in my soul now that you are gone but i must not dwell in that spot i must move on, I must heal
shape
you are both gone but your hands are upon my shoulders
my two mothers are set in heaven now
you are not suffering any more you are free you have joined your brothers, your sisters your mother, your father your son, your daughter
a poet's confessional 