I Met God At A Bus Stop. She Was Dragging On Her Cigarette And Sitting On A Cold Bench. The Bench Still

I met god at a bus stop. She was dragging on her cigarette and sitting on a cold bench. The bench still covered in writings from previous ones. Her mascara was running down her face, her runny nose almost as red as the tip of her cigarette, and her chipped nails scratched open her skin. As she looked at me, I swear I could see the whole world in her eyes, just as it is. Broken and damned. Under her finger nails laid the dirt and in her eyes pooled her tears, forming oceans. I could feel her staring at me and judging me. It was that night I realized, that god is every teenage girl.

I’d tear holes in my skin, if you wanted to love me intimately

It’s me. I am bitches

My life is just so silly.. I am sitting on my bed in the psych ward, trying to figure out which dried flower I should put in my journal, while I am drinking the cheapest earl grey tea I could find in the supermarket… so silly

An Angel came to me last night. It lingered infront of my bed and glowed like a thousand suns. As it opened its mouth, I almost passed out. The deafening cry it gave me, sounded almost like a sweet serenade. The angel gifted me a pomegranate. I broke it open and it’s red juice dripped down my fingers, staining my white linen. I handed the angel a half and watched as it drank the sweet nectar and let it dribble down its chin. It looked nearly unholy. Staring at the creature, tears ran down my face and burned themselves into my skin. Only later I realized.. only later I saw the mirror infront of me.

in the land of gods and monsters, i was an angel