Posted in poetry, published, Uncategorized

Believer

I do not need you
to pray for me.

I am a common woman,
prideful

&

reckless,

lust-ridden

&

forbidden
by your kind:

those who point to me,
wanting to anoint me
with all things pure,
unsure
of my worth
until I feign their ways.

I am no follower
of fire and brimstone;

&

as your kind says of me:
I am too far gone.

 

Previously published in Bop Dead City – Issue 14; January 2016
https://bopdeadcity.com/buy/

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