Touch my hands and kiss me on the cheeks
Living for me has always been a sort of risk
I don’t fear or praise any invisible thing
My only enemy is resting beneath my skin

In the mornings I cover my face to fit
So they won’t see the hysteria on my lips
But in the dark I bleed from the needles
My old angels have been turned into demons

I cover the cracks of my soul with photo filters
My youth is fading away like soft whispers
But I still send to faceless strangers my shame
So many lies that I don’t even know who I am

I pray with my eyes wide open and don’t blink
Don’t feel a thing then I drown into dirty kinks
I can barely see they rubbing on my skin
Lost my north and this is my only sin

He threw me in a garden and abandoned me
Showed me a seductive trap in a tree
And now they use their bibles to outcast me
My poems were love letters to nobody


Enjoy more of Chris' poems

Tell one friend about and a gay unicorn will get their wings.

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