wormhole
A powerful poem about a mortal questioning their faith

I'm so
in
c
i r
c l
e
s
lately.
morning dew did freeze over
but we
did not.
but I'm stuck wondering
if some part of me
did die
with everything else?
I feel like a broken bank vault
and something tunnelled inside
from
under.
I'm hollow
I hear these
e c h o e s
but I don't know who
(or what)
stole everything from me.
I'm in this
void
these walls
are crushing me.
I miss the security I used to have
did I let my guard down
or did my guard
collapse
down
on
me?
I just want everything
to fucking
go
away and
never
come back
I just want to forget all these insecurities
I just want whoever the fuck keeps playing replay
to make it
fucking
stop
I just want all these people
all these thoughts
all these voices
all these theives
to stop stealing the ground beneath my feet
how greedy must one be
to take all I have inside
and still,
continue robbing me
of the
nothing I have left?
I just want to be able to start over
but I can't
these masked theives
keep stealing everything I managed to find
as I try to
pull myself back
together.
I can't claim to be an angel
can't claim to be an angel
I have walked astray and am guilty of dirty deeds
but this
is getting to be too much
i'm so
fucking weak
I never should have doubted
the deadly
in the seven sins
if God is love
what kind of sick fuck
calls demonic spite for forgiveness fair?
dear holy one of the heavens
if you're really there
forgive a mortal human to question;
this
'love'
if I dare?
this emptiness, my insides I bare!
I see myself in mirrors through voids in reflections and never ending air;
at hell
I
STARE
into blackholes
I worm
I wither
gravity berids me of my light
this pressure!
this pressure!
oh, this fucking pressure!
I strain as it swallows me into the night
I am
I will (and against my,I)
become
one
with this
v o r t e x
I am
thinning
thinning
dear god, (non existent to listen)
who am I kidding?
this is the vivid cackle
the kiss of burning shrapnel
gobbling
gobbling
swallowing
slaughtering
my light
my sight
my breath
my fight
this god
this 'love'
this black screaming night!
this pressure
this pressure!
this gravity knows not mercy!
it pounds down even the slight
of fainted suns and starridden light
this pressure
this pressure!
this fight
my..
light?
what time of less remains
before this vortex
this void
this possesioned black light
smothers my soul
my matter
and
f l a t l i n e s
the
night?--------------------------
-
About the Creator
Korinne Joy Tuck
writer, poet, artist.
[abstract]
(with intensity)
× of incredible intellect.


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