Divine Depression

My treasure was dirt for a time.
My luxury was the grime.
Ashes weren't loathsome to me.
Weeping was a pleasantry.
Even the darkness will not be dark to You.

I look not at a perfect complexion, but a broken face.
What visual have we given our Godly divine race?
He was scourged I remember.
Choosing not a spring day, but a winter.
Even the darkness is not dark to You.

So I eat crumbs when given a feast.
I dine on water when that is the least.
I let my bones age
As I dance in holy rage.
Even the darkness wasn’t darkness to You.

Comments

Shy Suicide

Disclaimer: This poem was inspired by someone else's struggle with suicide. Don't worry I am not suicidal. Suicide, why do you hide beneath my white skin? Suicide, why do use my fake smile for your sin? Suicide, why do you keep your cover until the rope is tight, the trigger is pulled, the pills are swallowed, the wrists slit? A black phantom behind my face. A dark word behind my lips. A night in my day. Suicide, why do you ensnare all my companions? They didn’t know. They didn’t see. They didn’t recognize who had overtaken me. You left a message on paper; they read in disbelief. Suicide, you are shy, and yet you have the audacity to kill me.

Definition

Beautiful, as she meandered into the profile picture of her dreams. Hair meticulously styled, angle right, and artificial light to highlight that which is dark. I thought, certainly she was someone to befriend, yet she wanted nothing to do with me. She loved to sin. I found a woman with a double chin, bags under her eyes, walking around the block, taking it all in. I thought her time had come and gone, nothing more to my life could she add. Wishing she’d be a mere acquaintance, I left after our small conversation, not recognizing she was the definition of a friend.

Why?

Why does justice hurt like hell, Mama? Why does justice hurt like hell? Why does the truth do so much damage, Papa? Why does the truth do so much damage? Why does righteousness burn like a fire, Daughter? Why does righteousness burn like a fire? Why does love sting like death, Son? Why does love sting like death?

FairWriter

Search This Blog