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Literature Text
you know they used to burn witches?
tie them to a stake and let the flames
dance around their feet, devouring
their pink and vulnerable flesh.
no one had a chance for innocence,
no matter what they did, the cries of
"burn the witch!" went up all around.
that's me today. damned if i do,
damned if i don't. at least if you call
me a witch now, you have no right
to burn me alive. it's almost too bad:
i'd love to choke you with the smell of
my burning flesh and the
taste
of
your
guilt.
tie them to a stake and let the flames
dance around their feet, devouring
their pink and vulnerable flesh.
no one had a chance for innocence,
no matter what they did, the cries of
"burn the witch!" went up all around.
that's me today. damned if i do,
damned if i don't. at least if you call
me a witch now, you have no right
to burn me alive. it's almost too bad:
i'd love to choke you with the smell of
my burning flesh and the
taste
of
your
guilt.
Literature
Asylum's Rant
Within these corridors,
she is Queen
and when she speaks
her voice shakes sleep
out from under
the quivering shell
of spine's own feet
and it's documented
-somewhere-
how they've seen her
in teetering dance
with those antiquated demons
of 'froth' and 'lurk'
Me; I only watch her,
those high heels clicking,
rounding corners,
checkmarking tiny boxes
with that fancy white pen of hers
--her wrists and fingers
adorned in silvery sevens,
crystal-like glasses
perched
in low singsong
upon her nose
and that high strut
of the
Literature
Avenge My Angel
She's all dressed up,
with no where to go.
That pale rose skirt,
and her hair in a bow.
She sings to herself
because nobody's home.
Her mother's upstairs,
drinking alone.
Rose petal nails,
and ivory skin.
She's an Earth-bound angel,
in a world of sin.
And she doesn't see him,
as she walks by.
A polite smile,
just another "that guy".
But he wants her,
like he's never wanted before.
He'll be the savior,
in this angel's dark world.
But the day he makes his move,
her mother drinks too much.
Her father returns,
and his love burns to ash.
Screams from the windows,
flames from the door.
The sirens start to wail,
as the ra
Literature
Anthem
Stand, girl, stand
Fight, girl, fight
This is the debt you're paying
The debt you'll never repay
So press your palm against the wound, girl
There's blood seeping between your fingers
And promise him life, girl
Always promise life
Even when his eyes are glassy
And you know he's not seeing you
Even when you're a thousand miles away, too.
Aren't you?
Does your shoulder ache, girl?
And can you smell amber in the dust?
You can't stop, girl
You can't let yourself stop.
No—
Never stop.
Oh, you'd better stand, girl
Stand.
You'd better fight, girl
Fight.
Because this is the debt you're paying
This is the debt you'll never r
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potentially scraps.
catharsis, mostly.
© Jessica McGale
Does the format add anything at all or is it pointless?
catharsis, mostly.
© Jessica McGale
Does the format add anything at all or is it pointless?
© 2011 - 2024 beautyinreview
Comments42
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for some reason I love a twisted dark poem with meaning and this is just that. I really love the line about their pink and vulnerable feet. heck i love the whole thing. great job! and if you have time check out my story on the salem witch trials. since we have the same liking towards dark twisted things with meaning, I would presume you'd like it