The Beast

I dress up like an angel just to  undress him,  

So good at seduction, can’t interpret affection, 

With each one before, intentionally misrepresented, 

Entrapped in my guilt, engrossed, procuring perfection,  

Barr bodies entwined just a distraction of self,

I know who I am, damned if I let anyone else,

Emotions are playthings, placed high on a shelf,

Writhing, wicked and worried, from love I rebel, 

I never reach tomorrow nor escape from today,

Cover tears, cover track marks, I am always okay,

Reform me, regret me, push me far away,

Medication and masks keep my demons at bay, 

Wasted and wounded, a wretched wench on my knees,

I am the courage in chaos, I’m the fight in the free, 

Lying naked with with him, I’m not hiding from me, 

My truth never leads him to where he shouldn’t be. 

Tormented and tainted, in that way we’re the same, 

Unforgiving, unworthy, we sink in the shame,

Filthy and faithless, so much dirt on my name, 

You know it so well, I don’t need to explain, 

The 9th gate leads directly, both Heaven and Hell, 

Waking up screaming, damn these demons can yell,

Deluded by dawn, deep in darkness we dwell, 

Betrayed the Beast, my sweet soul always for sale. 

DNR

I was created to be a lover in a wasteland of souls, 

My tits on his back can’t make him feel whole,

His touchz, his lips, burn me, set me on fire, 

His touch is not truth, fuck feelings, they lie, 

Beginning as friends, just confuses the facts,

He says that it’s him but I know it’s his mask, 

He’s worn it so long, does he know what is real? 

Run by his demons, determined he’ll fail, 

We find comfort in Hell, we don’t know how to trust,

Scratch my nails down his back, controlled by my lust, 

Conflicted and cold, won’t feel something again, 

Disconnected and bold, naked thoughts, skin on skin,

Crawling to him on hot coals, alive from the burn,

I give in, he gets lost, left me waiting for my turn,

Hypnotized by his voice and the taste of his tongue,

Loyal to only to pain, loaded, ready to run,

Soaked and stained by the past, our sins never come clean, 

Rip me to peiced, pronounced dead on scene. 

Disconnect

-Delusive-
People's minds and souls
-Weakness-
In thought and action
-Strength-
Words spoken without thought
Drowning in their shallowness
For they are many
Wrapped in a blanket of themselves
Not to be awakened
To the power of their words
Never to inspect them again
Endeavor to refrain from judgment
-Face-
-Value-
All they are worth

Megan Forrest

The Seventh Generation

7 generations of inherited trauma,
Gifted to me by my mother, 
As the if the shame and guilt are a prize, 
Harrowing heirlooms of our ancestors, 
Handed down as holiness through our lineage.
Unspoken, unhealed, unloved fragments,
Split into slivers, bored into the skin of our souls. 
Disguised, coveted, protected, poisoned,
From cross to cradle to grave and over again.
Passed through the wrath of father’s belt as wisdom, 
Whispered into the welts on his beloved, bleeding son.
Procreated by denial, determination and duty,
Their sins are trampled deep into the fabric of my DNA. 
By the broken in boots brandished by my father,
Pulling myself up first by bootstraps, then by noose.

7 generations of trauma, handed down like a legacy, 
Seared into my thoughts, my mind, into my fertility. 
Mother’s hushed voice shrouded behind a sunny smile,
“Wicked child, my wounds are your fault, I love you.”
Wilting under the weight of her wounds, my birth rite. 
Chin up, silent, dutiful, beautiful, intelligent, slit wrists, 
Head high, lips sewn shut, seductive, sweet, tortured. 
My screams stifled, shut down, begging for freedom,
Stifled by 500 pills poured down my slender throat.
Seeping out, escaping, brainiac dripping with blood, 
Off the charts IQ escapes in slices, self inflicted at 17.
Buried again under the kissed on stitches and scars, 
Birthed into the beautiful blue eyes of my daughter. 
Echoing under, reverberating, patterned, my parenting,
My child protests as she is ripped out of my arms. 
My never self searching nor speaking truth,
A cyclic sentence, I am responsible to reveal, to break. 

7 generations untied, unravel, initiated by my suffering.
Scared little me, fearless liberator of my family line. 
Broken open, the truth is revealed, my ancestral role- 
Sent here, Hell, head high, had enough, to hold a torch, 
To burn it all to the ground.
Defiant, determined, deliberately deliver from fear. 
Liberated from lingering lies, to stand with the truth. 
The truth is:  
Long before I was an independent, modern-day woman, 
Lost in the illusion of a lover raised by an unwounded father,
Before the tortured touch of that sick soul on my 4 year old flesh, 
Before war became a game, parcheesi for politicians, 
Before youth and death was indiscernible from pride and profit, 
Before true love became dollar signs and bit coin banks,
Before the world forgot the its sacred divinity, 

My soul made a choice: 
Learn what it means to be free: 
Uncover the wisdom in your wounds: 
When they look at you, let them see a reflection of their own beauty, the truth. In silence my ancestors appear, whispering in my ear:The truth is: 
I AM soft and sweet, despair and love, my weapons, My heavy, sticky, dirty soul is worthy of love, is love.You are love, I am love, direct expressions, art of God, Intentional! 
The Universal truth of the divine paradox,
The manifest universe observing itself, 
In wonder, significant and insignificant, connected.As above, so below, 
As within, so without. 

The truth is, in my example, my actions: 
I cannot wipe my daughters slate perfectly clean, 
I  gifted her the same pain of 7 generations: 
I also gift her the breaking of a cycle: 
I speak honestly about the wounds I bestowed on her, 
I own that, I am responsible,
I teach her the things I had to bleed to learn, 
I set ten thousand fires and burn 10,000 times,
I show her I rise in strength from ashes, transformed, 
I show her how to stand in, to be, to return to love. 
I show her that courage and compassion are king,
I show her I remain rooted, no running, fuck fear.
I show her to search for lessons in her shadow, 
I acquaint her to the army of her ancestors, 
I walk, talk and breathe my truth, and she hers.
I sit with the broken to learn more valuable lessons than dining with the rich. 

The truth is:
I cannot take away the reality of the pain I have caused, 
I can be an example of how to love without fear.  
I find confidence through humility and gratitude,
I celebrate as I witness her stand in her truth: 
Love is the truth. 
“God” is love, so we are love.
“God” is darkness so we are darkness.
We must explore, learn, understand this to know ourselves. 

I rise, no longer splintered; whole: 
So her great great great great granddaughter not have to wage war within herself; born free. 
Free from the 7 generations of trauma, passed down;  
A gift from mother’s mother to my mother to me. 
Megan Forrest

Summa Cum Laude

Summa cum laude, smarty pants, slit wrists, won’t learn my lesson, 

Bleeding out, don’t stitch me up; destruction is perfection,

Please choke me with his gentle hands, gag on his intentions, 

Lover girl, cruel world, live for lust, not soul connection,

Softest skin, mini skirt, full metal jacket for protection,       

So what I keep on trying to suck love from an erection?

He’s telling me that on my knees is the prettiest reflection,

Gaze up at him adoringly, disgusted, perpetual perplex-ion,

After all, aren’t we the same, like pain mirrors affection? 

His cold dead eyes on my pale thighs, I beg for his attention,

Sticks and stones, please break my bones, wretched, worship imperfection.

Ironically, he is both lock and key, my hell and my ascension.

Megan Forrest

Purgatory Princess

Nestled in my nightmare, 

He never wakes me,

His slow hands make sin feel like safety,

His violent fingers, they tease and trace me, 

Orgasms, obstinance, gag me, shake me, 

Avoiding the truth just like the plague he,  

Flicks his forked tongue to taste me, 

My soul spotless, like a dirty rape scene,  

Succumb to my shame, lust overtake thee,

I’m worse than the witches, amused by misery,

Drove the devil from darkness, I set him free,

I lit crosses on fire so his demons can see, 

Tore wings off the angels, God will fear me, 

Slither down to damnation, decay here safely, 

Supplied his salvation, he fails to escape me,

Tried to run, crawl back bloody, embrace me, 

He loves fucking bruises, make him say please!

I anointed my crown, I love watching him bleed, 

Discarded, demented, demeaned, beautiful screams, 

Pleasure perfected, shove him down on his knees,

He can choke on my tears, fuck letting him breathe, 

He begs for his murder, for mercy, sweet pleas, 

Seduced, sucked then slaughtered, I’m his purgatory. 

Megan Forrest