Calling

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Calling

The called her an angel.
goddes
lover.
Yet she was nothing.
No one.
even to herself.

She reached into her breasts
a cavern
her soul.

Evil thought festering.
growing.
heavy heavy

she screams out. pulling on it
Opening her self.
The blood spills and the pain is no more.

She is emtpy.
whole.
missing.

No one can see her.
no one can feel her.
she doesnt exist.

Never existed to them.
Her beauty is drained.
ugly.
yet erotic.

She is like lust.
abandoned and hidden.
She'll whisper into ears.

Trying to be seen.
regretful.
afraid.

Wishing they could hear her calling

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

RavenMoon’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Unconditional 0
All The Wrong Places 2
Lovers 4
Taste 1
Calling 0
Terror 1
Nightmare of sorts 0
Love *אהבה* me in Hebrew 0
Differences 0
Mother's sweater 0
just a minute in a lifetime 0
Just like Riding a Bike 1