Monthly Archives: June 2019

Tasteless

Posted by Zeannaroux on

A word spoken into exsitance has the power to tear me down but I can’t let it. I know it would be better to take it back but I lost the flavor and now can remember what it was like before. This word gives meaning when there wasn’t any. Bringing to life things that I should have just let die but I can’t. It is a curse to go back and give it away. Cracks appear on my mind because I decided to trust this broken word with a broken meaning. Leaving me spinning. Telling tall tales about how I have courage to defeat my own creation. But I guess I am paitent.

I guess I am just that paitent.

A poem in the ER

Posted by Zeannaroux on

debased by the mongrels son

of which there is no other

his greatest sin was loving me

as i laid with his white brother

such improper etiquette

requires the stealth of a lover

the mongrels son knows not what ive done

yet i taunt him sober

for i am his bride yet i cannot hide

my lust for the their power

A church of Echos

Posted by Zeannaroux on

Why is no one listening to me

Screams the child in the church pew

Grandfathers hand down their top

And grandmothers over their mouth

Mom and dad standing at the opposite ends

Trying not to listen to the shouts

But that is not what gave the room pause

Over there sits a little boy with a gun in his lap

And rewards on his jacket

Drawing up a dagger and slicing into a peer

Color coded lettering screaming

Why is no one listening

But move the camera preacher man

Over there you’ll see

A girl squating over pill bottles chocking them down with ease

Shitting out insta likes

As the wolves paw at her feet

The shacking of the pills bottles gives a signal

As hands reach to spread her knees

Why is no one listening to me

Down the asle lies a bible

Covered in well wishes and kisses

Thumbs up with well intentions

It holds the congregations attention

As the preacher man walks by

with gleam in his eye

Giving twisted smile to the lost boys

And waving at the confused girls

Praising the mothers and fathers

Only to step past the blooded child