Wash away the sins of last night

In ceramic solitude as bubbles float skyward,

Attempting their escape from filthy water

Filled with regret. Wishing too hard

For an extension lead for the toaster

To twist its way towards the thick tepid water,

Held in place by its demonic embrace

That warms and weakens the will

To resist, it’s kiss, her wish:

‘Give me more than this.’ this life

That she hates, each day lowers the stakes

As she aches and feels fake 

Every time that she breaks

At the hands of the life that she’s chosen,

But frozen in place to repeat 

And succumb to defeat.


Pondering wishes without the will to fulfil,

Like a partner in crime or simply some time

Back to end it all sooner or even just

Breasts that didn’t break her back

When she breathes, but relieved

By the gazes and stares

From those hungry eyed players

Who‘ll tell her they care

As they strip her flesh bare

In the night. She just wonders

What wonderful pain as her train

Of thought chugs through tunnels

And hallways lit up or darkened by drugs;

Whispers ‘I’m yours.’ as he laughs

And just shrugs.


Handicapped by holy water,

He just doesn’t know any better;

Knew what was righteous, all in the Plan

Beaten into his brain, his chains

That tethered him to expectations,

Promising supplication from pious passages

Created to swallow that swallow to create.

If only truth was ordained not ingrained,

Unstained by expectation, and pinky promises

That his kingdom would come in death;

Every last living breath expended in praise,

Under His gaze, just stay divine –

Only in death is your pleasure benign.


Prowling the dancefloor he seeks out the pure;

His cure he’s so sure; find the most insecure

As she seeks out affection, avoids her reflection.

‘Is this one the one?’ as he pictures their son;

Mentally preparing to make his move,

He stares – god, he cares –

No one could love her the way that he would

If only she’d see just how this guy is good.

She kisses another, he’s in such good shape;

Just a typical whore, guess he’ll take off his cape,

Changing his mind, what a fat waste of space –

He’s starting to realise why bitches get raped.

1 Comment

  1. People and they’re actions
    are where we find reasons
    in society to become a quitter
    not accepting them as they are
    is the reason we grow bitter
    we just want to be alone
    and withdraw from the litter
    and sometimes,
    that’s what we need to do
    find how to make it through
    go our way to become a glitter.

    Liked by 1 person

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