The Internal Weed

OH GOD, bitterness like a bad seed roots within me,
It grows in the dark heart and I can not kill the seedling.
I watered it with my own duplicity,
And feed it well with my hate and loathing.

OH ABBA, I swear if you were to cut me open and splay my skin,
All you would see is the spreading dark tentacles within.
The seething, roiling mass of cancerous rage,
That is so repressed it paces unfelt inside its cage.

OH FATHER, please empty my cup, I can not drink more.
Find me a place that my soul I can restore,
So I can stop my trips to the edge of the abyss,
How it gets easier each time to look into that mist.

OH LORD, what if I no longer can pull away.
What if this is as good as it gets in the end of the day.
I need a sign that innocence and mercy do exist,
Please send me a guide to take me out of this.

Why is it that pain is so much more free flowing onto paper than pleasure?

*shivers*

This is beautiful Widget.

thanks again and yes somehow pain is easier.. i did this as bit of a joke with someone where we each had a topic to do a poem on and the other one is in the erotic thread. It had some great results.

I'll say so, very nice work

Very powerful hun .. Thank you very much

hugs, i think you need one

hugs always welcome and thank you all

Widget - I don't venture over to poetry much but think I should do so more often

I loved it

minxy x

Whether that would be straight from the heart or from within a mask, you for sure have known the feeling. Really good one, Widget.