Adolescent Faith

A poem about losing my blind faith.

A blossom of faith, infected,

Withered from the needle in my neck.

And the flowers break into rotting petals,

Measled leaves contaminated

From the new questions in my mind.

 

Blue eyes dilute into grey-tinted

Scrap-metal shades of mercury.

I try to die,

The enamel is covered in blood.

 

A dog in a trap, a mongrel is all I am.

Filthy,

dirtied by my own mind,

Even my demons are

Burnt through asscociation.

 

My mind feels free as these pages fly.

I will no longer study

The chains that bind me.

 

Innocence shatters, the mask peels away

I fall into adolescent faith.

Author's Note

Ignore my die-hard atheism ;)

Reviews

[Rob Santana]

Even my demons are burnt through association. My favorite line. I can relate to this line. Keep 'em coming Kat.