Submissions by withernrise

There once was a child who believed in angels, Heaven and Hell.

There once was a child who prayed, asking the Lord to help those in need.

There once was a child who except for once, had never prayed for themself.

Then one night, the demons came in the form of hands and took the child.

The child was brought to a world where the sun did not rise and sleep never came.

The child’s skin burned from the chains locked around their wrists.

“Please, God. Kill me,” the child begged. “Kill me, please.”

The Lord heard the...

no one thinks twice about ending the life of a four-leaf clover but he said that if reincarnation were real, that he hoped in his next life he could be one. hoped someone would be excited to find him, be happy to pick him, and that he could bring them good luck.

i'd like to believe that reincarnation is real, because i cannot imagine that the amount of love i feel when i think of him,
could cease to exist the moment this heart stops beating.

if i were to find him in my next life,
if i have a hand to pick him,
i will love him enough not to.
...

i said, “i love you” but i never said goodbye.

when the night came, i said, “shine bright” but i never said goodbye.

the last time the earth took a friend, i believed in a heaven above

where angels danced and a man in white said, “welcome!"

that’s nothing but a laugh to me now. it’s as cruel

as a joke can be. now i believe

that when the last breath comes, the darkness

of your eyelids is all there is to greet you.

except, your eyes were open when i asked death, "how long?”

and he said,...

it is spring and i am a puddle

who dreams of the ocean

but dries up in the sun.

it is summer and i am a glass jar

with dead fireflies

and an open lid.

it is fall and i am a crumbled leaf

where the crunch of my bones

brings joy to a child.

it is winter and i am the flame

of an apple-scented candle

for a woman sick with a cold.

it is spring again and i am the rain

that falls from the clouds

and caresses your window.

it is...

you said that it would be mutilating my body, that god would be upset. that his wrath would consume me for destroying his creation that was already deemed "perfect" and didn't need to be fixed.

but where was god's wrath when i was eight-years-old and a creation of his deemed "perfect" held me down and mutilated my innocence more than surgical tools ever could?

you said that this is not who i am, that what happened to me made me what i am but these breasts i hate i didn't have when i was eight.

i hate riding in vehicles with no windows and locked doors. i hate...