Pitch Black
Dark Madonna's winter prayers
It’s that time of year again when the jingles drown out the deafening noise inside.
Dark Santa, is that you? Or is it your devil brother in the crib?
I’m one of the wise men full of disgust and gag at the smell of frankincense and infamy.
Will it be over soon? Or more jolly vomit in the air?
Suffocation, no relief in sight — Holy Trinity — the family I never had.
Why do I miss them so much?
Because I was born an angel, but my halo is broken so badly that it hurts.
All. The. Time.
And Adam took a rib of mine. I take a sip from the cauldron of poison — the happiest time of the year. Hey, fill the glass. More frosting, please.
I’d rather be the shadow elf, jumping into the Volcano and turning into lava and purple ash.
So that I forget that I was ever born, to never die again, to un-remember my innocence, my longing.
Dark Madonna weeps hot embers.
©️ Ute Luppertz 2025
About the Creator
Ute Luppertz ✨
Seeker of Mysteries - Poet - Animal Lover - Wisdom Keeper 🌿
https://uteluppertz.substack.com/
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
It highlights the internal conflict of longing for connection while feeling distanced, creating a haunting reflection on love, loss, and identity.
Whoa, this one cuts deep—raw, haunting, and dripping with dark poetry. That clash between holiday cheer and inner turmoil? Chilling. Feels like a descent into the underbelly of Christmas, where the lights don’t quite reach. Heavy, but beautifully crafted!