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Writer's pictureCalista Marsh

Poetry: Heretic

There was nothing immaculate about us

When you erected the Virgin

Your ignorance was not bliss

I was the immortal sinner.


Watch my teeth tear through skin

A mouthful of that crisp wetness

Never tasted a lick of deceit

You forgave too easily, you always do.


On the Lord’s Day

You pressed my lips apart like an ocean

Maybe if you could walk on water

You could force me to love you.


You’ll never see the light

My heart is the sea, unbreakable

I reeled you in to my depths

Only to spit you out once more.




I was all seven sins

You were so possessed by them

You forbid anyone else

From ever reaching that unholy light.


You drop to your knees for me

The floorboards are worn thin

With those grains imbedded in your skin

You thought I’d take you to church.


You were crucified

I was your cross

I watched as my nails dug in so deeply

Your skin consumed them

- - -

It was never a sacrifice.


It was suicide.


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