invictus of suffering
my soul is powerful because of this
seedy desire, reading my scars like braille
inflicted glory, they are an honor to wear
filthy weakness, when I shy
undisturbed truth peeks through the mire
where all understanding is born
fraught with pain
so I will know the depths of feeling
sacred sanctuary in hell where I bleed
a place to go to blow off steam
my magic wild, all energy goes somewhere
don’t let me direct it at you
stitched lips, utter curses under my breath
silently weaving my enchantments
in the bitter dawn fall asleep and do it again
the house of mirth welcomes me
I am understood here








Powerfully penned, Brenda. Excellent write my friend. Amazing imagery as well. Appreciate you.
Damian
hello dearest Damian good afternoon thank you graciously ❤️
You hurt me, this was so good, demonic dark woman of the night! Harriet-Jacqui xx
hello lovely poetess thank you graciously I meant you know pangs though ❤️
mmmn, I DO know pangs! xx