Poetry you wrote when mad at your god/self/whatever. The more pathetic, the better!

[Occult Forum Archive]

Original post: sirius lokian

i called you today.
you didn't pick up.
(you know i never mean it when i say i don't believe)
i waited for you today.
i find myself waiting a lot these days.
(how does it feel to want?)
wish in one hand.
shit in the other.
(you always found some way to fill me)
see? i can only speak to you in whispers.
here in the hallowed halls of my reclusive mind.
(i need you. i miss you. hold me. love me.)
whispers become echos in the empty heart.
can you stop the building of THIS wall? CAN YOU?
(it hurts so much. take it. burn it. eat it.)
if you feed on pain, consider me a whore of plenty.
a banquet of unrequited love, rotten to the core.
(but you like me that way, don't you?)
fuck me. kill me. i don't care, just make me feel.
anything. something. it's all the same.
(there has to be more to me than this.)
Loki. There. I said your name. Deal with it.
I carry such shame for you, my monkey on my back.
(if only you were so easy to get rid of...)
I don't care if he hears it. I don't care who hears.
LOKI LOKI LOKI. There. And I'm not crazy.
(doubt, doubt....all there is is doubt.)
Black hearts burn slower.
Dead souls take longer.
Sleep now, with your shining knight in his pale horse.
The dark night with a pure heart.
Give it up. Let it go. I don't NEED YOU.
THERE IS NO GOD. THERE IS ONLY DARKNESS.

[awriterscorned]

I Miss…

Is this the place I go to be alone?
The forest is gone from this place
The beach is deserted and I don’t find
My inner sacred space anymore
I search and search for something
That no airplane or car can take me to
I search for my faith…for answers
I search to be me once again
Past the horizon, the Summerland lies
The ship of positive thoughts
Could take me there, right now
But I’m terrified to board
Blank pages stare back at me
As I try to plan a new ritual
But everything I write seems a lie
Spoken by a hypocrite, that’s me
Why can’t I pray anymore?
I never feel up to it, only confused
I want to, but almost forgot how
I need to, but fail for lack of sleep
Where are the caves I revisited
A memory in meditation?
And reversed the outcome to
See myself as the winner?
Where are the stars I’d stare at
Believing them to be glimpses
Of the astral and divinity
But what did I ever know?
I can still see the moon’s silver
I want to call to Her, to apologize
I still see the sun, but cannot
Be who I need to be
I know They hear me, somewhere
The words I’m afraid to speak
And I hope I haven’t let them down
I hope I can be better
But I miss my mental island and
Memory caves from summer
And my old BOS from autumn
Next to my false flowers from spring
I miss my prayers, I really do
I miss feeling Their presence in my life
But most of all, I miss being me
And I want to start living again
But if I pray tonight, what will I say?
Which deities will I call to?
And how will I trust myself again,
To mind the Rule of Three?

I wrote this at the age of 15 when I was confused about whether or not Wicca was the right path for me. It wasn't.