only everything

but puke it back
a full belly
my charity

lack of sleep
my heavy head
the weight of sin
no medicine

hate myself
no self control
my floors are dirt
so is my soul

god loves the poor
what happens if
he is no more

no blenders
to mix the sky
my universe
weather the curse

a prisoner
the social cure

paintings for
religious pleas
though art can hurt
i’m pleasure free

recite prayers
my hands are tied
it was like sex
but we both died

i am so many things
i do the best i can
only a boy
only a girl
i’m only everything

how can you still ask me for more





Angela Bachmann

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