In the church of heartache,
pain is our religion.
Faithful to your kisses,
pour into my cup.
Kneel into my fallacies,
believer of disbelief.
Loyal to your scripture,
written in bloody ink.
I worship a temple of deceit.
My gentle god of abandonment.
Lay me into your altar.
Tender to these wounds.
Bring me back.
I pray for one thing,
and only one thing:
The opposite of tears.
―when atheists pray
YOU ARE READING
Pen and Paper: Poetry & Prose (2020)
PoetryWords are bullets. Readers are targets. Come all, the loud and the silent! Dive into this merriment. Hi there! This is my collection of poetry & prose divided into three parts: When she hurts When she heals ...
