Deific CurseAffrontedly,Deific Curse by Winter-Cranium
there are those who have demanded
and all other boons pervading my virtue.
But they were ill-suited to deserve such,
Privilege only I can bestow.
of their selfish intentions
driven by their sniveling inner narratives,
of their embroidered word-weaving
and makeshift sincerities;
to their depraved behavior
their pathetic existence debased to nil.
Exposed to my scorn
that would only unveil to glare
upon shameless malice
(Entitlement's wounded backlash)
and freeze to their core with gelid wrath.
Shattered facade falls.
A wintry void.
secluded from benevolence;
AN ACT OF OMISSION,
an eternal smirk.
Their souls cried so:
The Entity Was MeShadows move under the door,The Entity Was Me by Winter-Cranium
stuffing out the light
until it is no more.
In it creeps
no longer shuffling shadows,
but an entity.
Dark, obscure, and pure.
Above my bed,
plastered to the ceiling.
Never moving yet growing
and boring down.
Whimpering is the signature sound.
with the fear of nightmares
and a ghastly visitation.
But it's the dreamless oblivion
that perturbed me when I woke.
The entity was a vision,
a silhouetted reflection of me.
One, two, threeMy boyfriend watched, open mouthedprojectilewordvomit
as I unscrewed the lid of your urn,
and ran my fingers through your ashes.
Your depression, your soul dust.
I felt nothing other than
an ocean roiling beneath my ribs,
and an urge to hold the brass ossuary,
and rock you back and forth
like you did for me when I was young.
At the funeral, my uncle announced
that you despised religion.
But he left out the part
where you did believe in a God,
just that he was always punishing you.
“There was nothing you could have done”
said the other uncle.
I think of all those spent wishes,
the birthday candles extinguished for gifts,
the meteor showers I wasted on love,
the prayers offered from family friends
that are now given a little too late.
This year, I turn 22 years old.
But when I blow out the candles,
my wish won’t matter.
None of them did.