Home » Poems » Best » Alice Faith » Best Alice Faith Poems

Best Poems Written by Alice Faith

Below are the all-time best Alice Faith poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Alice Faith Poem

A sinner

FYI BEFORE READ. this was made as a personal note to a stepsister i lost over time, this is more of a note then a true poem. but i felt the need to share.

A sinner

Was I born this way?
Did I change after that night?
Was I born as impure as I am now?
or was I once pure like all the angels?
I find myself staring at my blank gray walls,
wondering if this was a choice—if I unconsciously chose this path to digression.
As I sit awake, staring at these gray walls that once were your teal ones—the walls with the brown wooden organizer shoved against them in a disordered fashion,
the walls where I first experienced pure childhood bliss with you—they speak to me. They echo our giggles,
the agony of sobs, and the pure hatred expressed in this room. The closet we hid in,
where we entertained ourselves, now holds unwanted memories I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy.
As we held each other, crying over what seemed like insignificant moments that night, it was not insignificant for us.
The sounds of anger and hatred from your father's mouth,
the neglect from my mother's—we were each other's person.
While you may not remember, I do.
I remember sitting, holding myself, sobbing
as I worried about my mother and wondered why we were leaving in the
middle of the night.
You should have been scared as well.
Maybe you were, but still, you held me as I cried into the night sky,
begging for it all to stop,
yearning for just one night of silence.
I remember it all.
I remember the night I came home to find my mother bruised on her arms, legs, torso, and face.
I remember the horror on my face, unaware of what was happening.
As I sat in that diner at 8 a.m.,

I was given the option to leave—to leave you,

your father,

your brother,

and escape this abusive life i was so brainwashed into for these few years.

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to leave you.
Leaving you was never a choice for me,
but in the end, I think I did leave because I envied you.
You were not given a life-changing opportunity.
You were not there that night,
sobbing as you hid in the closet to distance yourself,
holding your body close as your world collapsed.
You were not the one to stop them,
to break them up, to scream for them to stop.

It was me.

To this day, I don't know if you fully know the truth of that night,
and for that, I will forever envy you.
I was angry that it was me who had gone through it.
It was only my childhood that ended those nights; the childhood bliss of unawareness was over for me.

I suppose it was for you as well,

but it was not ripped from you in a few seconds as it was for me. A man you were supposed to look up to didn't strip the innocence of bliss from you in mere seconds.

You will never know what it was like that night as I do. You will not know what it was like to see the one person you loved—your mother—bloody and bruised from the work of a man she was supposed to "love."
Yet, I suppose it was your father who committed the unlawful act,
and you'd have to live with being his daughter,
having his face, his laugh.

You'd have to live with that, whereas I did not.

But alas, I still envy you. I am still years later waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares of him coming back.
You cannot say the same.

You have moved on; you have a lover, friends, and a loving family.

I have none.

I am stuck living that nightmare until it releases me. You are not the same as me; you are pure.

You'd never hurt someone without knowing, unlike me.

when i think of our friendship/sisterhood it reminds me of a song lyric i heard once before"I am a sinner; you are a saint"—Mother Mother.

The reason I was so angry was because I was so envious.

So, I've painted your beautiful teal walls to my shade of dull gray. I've donated your clothes and changed your room into my own.

Your beautiful soul has been erased in this house. Now, you're merely a ghost over my shoulder I shove away.
we wanted our parents to marry so we could become REAL sisters. but to me you were already my true sister “e”.
tho it’s been years i often still think of you, nearly everyday

you may think this is odd, considering i was the one who ruined our friendship.

but alas i still think back to the times i would pretend to call you my sister,

how we had woken up a few hours after nightfall to spend Christmas with just each-other, nobody else.

that was the closest i would ever get to having someone love me so much as you did. -“Lindsey”

Details | Alice Faith Poem

two bodies one soul

reversed and reformed repost edit.

once before humans walked the earth. before Adam and Eve before the trees and the air we breathe there was one-

one physical body with four legs four arms and two heads as well as one soul accompanied by one heart. as full of love and self as they could be.
they challenged thy who brought to life and for that they were once cursed,
cursed by zeus chained apart.
as full as they once were they were henceforth two souls.
two bodies of flesh two bodies with a pulse with veins and a heartbeat.
cursed to roam the earth in search for the other.
in search for acceptance- as to be soulfully vulnerable and naked with each-other without the air and noise they had grown to know an as a “society”
yet they walked the earth with a sparkling glowing desire.
the desire soon turned into hope.
yet even when their prayers were answered they found themselves unfulfilled. soon the power of evil came into their hearts as quickly as the love for each-other.
the greed as-well as lust the undying urge to be unholy to once go back to how they were.
fulfilled yet it seemed no matter how much they laughed and cried and yearned they would never be one.
no matter how much they yearned for the other to be sewn together once again their prayers went unanswered.
no matter how much their bodies met in a orgasmic rush they were never one.
as manic as one gets when they’re prayers are never received they soon hoped their deaths would bring them together.
that the holy feeling of death as their blood poured and spilled into the others.
the hope their blood would become one as it rushed together was nevertheless just hope.
as they bleed they soon became to realize they would never be whole again.
as they stared into the others soon to be motionless eyes they soon came to the realization this was their curse.
their souls to be tarnished unholy and unfinished.
to be chained away from each other for all of eternity, just for greed over the gods. this was forever the mortals of earths curse

Details | Alice Faith Poem

one body two souls

once before humans walked the earth. before Adam and Eve before the trees and the air we breathe there was one. one physical body with four legs four arms and two heads as well as one soul accompanied by one heart. as full of love and self as they could be. they challenged thy who brought to life and for that they were once cursed cursed by zeus chained apart. as full as they once were they were henceforth two souls. two bodies of flesh two bodies with a pulse with veins and a heartbeat cursed to roam the earth in search for the other. in search for acceptance as to be un-judgedly vulnerable and naked with each-other without the air and noise they had grown to know an as a “society” yet they walked the earth with a sparkling glowing desire. the desire soon turned into hope yet even when their prayers were answered they found themselves unfulfilled. soon the power of evil came into their hearts as quickly as the love for each-other. the greeding aswell as lust the undying urge to be unholy too once go back to how they were. fulfilled yet it seemed no matter how much they laughed and cried and learned they would never be one. no matter how much they yearned for the other to be sewn back together their prayers went unanswered no matter how much their bodies met in a orgasmic rush they were never one. as manic as one gets when they’re prayers are never received they soon hoped their deaths would bring them together. that the holy feeling of death as their blood poured and spilled into the others that hope their blood would become one as it rushed together was nevertheless just hope. as they bleed they soon became to realize they would never be whole again as they stared into the others soon to be motionless eyes they soon came to the realization this was their curse. their souls to be tarnished unholy and unfinished. to be chained away from each other for all of eternity just for greed over the gods. this was forever the mortals of earths curse

Details | Alice Faith Poem

when you hear my name

i wonder- when the people you’ve seen once upon a distant memory ask how i am, what do you say?
 do you say we don’t talk? 
do you say the truth?
 do you admit to your sins like a devil in the church- 
do you feel a charcoal burn on your soul when you see soul in the wind?
the charred burn on my soul remains forever.
 a battle scar of your anger- our great war.
 i like to think we’re biblical,
like my soul was the great garden you terminated with your unholiness,
bugs crawling our of my beautiful garden of a soul- with the chemical burns of a thousand souls from your extermination.

Details | Alice Faith Poem

broken sisterhood

sometimes i think of you when i can't sleep and i stare at the closet, i remember when we were kids and used to hide in your closet and build a fort and hide from the world, either it was our parents or our future, nothing existed beyond it.i stare at my gray walls that were once your favorite color. when i go to stores in your town i wonder if i'll see you. if your hair will be shorter and lighter, if your eyebrows will be thinner, the outfit you'd wear
how tall you'd be now?-you were always so much more taller than me.
i wonder if you felt guilty like i do- if you wish you had been there that night with me. or if you even know the truth.
as i cried inside of my closet as our parents fought i wished you were with me-even if it was selfish to put you through what i did-
i knew you would've cried with me and consoled me.
it feels as if i'm a soul survivor.
my mother is too traumatized to remember- and i pray to the heavens you know the truth.
i wonder if he told you the holy version of which wasn't true, i remember being so young. too this day 3yrs later i selfishly pray you feel the same guilt i do- it's disgusting i wish for you too feel as broken as me- so impure. but i pray for it anyway because being a soul survivor means only I carry this charcoaled burden throughout my life-
i vomit my sins into words i cannot myself comprehend-
but i know if you were here with me these words would be nothing but a second language to you-
you were always so understanding. even when it was me being woken up in our shared bed to my mother throwing my clothing into bags saying we had to leave. you were just as scared as me because we were only children- yet you held me as i cried and beg for
this to be over with.
maybe it was your way of coping-to help me. or if you did it because you felt bad for me i truly will never know-
i'll never have the courage to call you and ask.
but i remember sitting in the hallway listening to our parents talk and us saying how we wished they'd get married so we could be REAL true sisters.
i never know if you wanted it as-well or if you just felt bad for me being alone. but even know as we don't talk anymore i still love you- you were the first person to ever show me sympathy no matter what the topic was. maybe you hate me for the things l've said, but they were out of sadness for knowing i was loosing you. to my first ever
"sister" -"lindsey."

Details | Alice Faith Poem

you’re not me, are you?

when i was merely fourteen-
i remember walking around wondrously throughout my town,
i wondered how people could live like this.
i look to my left and saw a fresh painted white house with a picket french and a freshly mowed lawn.

when i looked to the left- i saw a small house with mint green paint chipping off the wooden walls- white shudders hanging off by a thread-
with a left unused lawn mower that had nearly shin length grass sprouting from around it.

i remember thinking to myself- is this all that life was? the two options of life. the white picket fence or the lifeless wooden shudders house.

as i continued walking, feet patting against the road as the sun started to set i saw a group of boys around my age-

all laughing talking loudly- brotherhood i couldn’t have been more envious.

too my right i saw a women and her daughter going down the hill with her pink scooter.

i could’ve sworn at-least for a split second that girl was me.

as she pushed her tiny feet onto the black concrete with sweat sticking to her bangs i couldn’t help but feel envy- for her childlike innocence.

she did not notice her mother was fighting on call with her husband

she didn’t feel anxiousness for the future or present

she was simply ecstatic for her mother to be walking with her-

i looked down at my skateboard- the one i was truly never good at using and i placed it down. i swore as i pushed my foot onto the concrete going by the child
i could feel her lingering stare on my back.

i remember her saying “wow- that girl has a skateboard!”.

maybe just did it to impress her- or to get attention from both the child and mother- to maybe for once impress her and myself.

tho it didn’t last for long.

as i turned back to smile i was no longer greeted with a light brunette hair swaying in the wind as her bangs stuck to her face, her chubby cheeks smiling with childlike innocence-

i was greeted with a face of a random child.

her black curly hair and pale skin as-well as beauty marks and her dark eyes.

this wasn’t me.

i simply just wanted it to be, as i looked back to my-

no.

HER mother was no longer mine, this wasn’t my mother with her dark brown short hair and oversized glasses,

this was just a women i didn’t recognize.

Details | Alice Faith Poem

oh how my soul rots

i wonder if this feeling will pass.
if the skin rotting beneath my eyes will become a permanent color of blue,
if the bruises on my knees will fade to nothing more then flesh. 
they say this feeling goes away as you age-

 im not so sure about that. 
i feel the agonizing sensation of pain rotting beneath my chest as the hot mountain water flows down my neck.
 i think my soul will rot and burn as others grow flowers with the soil of their burdens,
 i wish i could be as beautiful as those flowers.
 to be born out of something so rotten and diseased yet still be as alive and beautiful. 
if maybe this body of flesh and sin will free me and maybe for once, i’ll be happy purely again-
 there will be no “this will be a happy memory” or “this feeling will not last, i’ll be sad again.” 
my soul will simply never feel once again.
but even so- would it be better to feel nothing?

 to not feel the unholiness beneath your chest that pumps blood.
to not feel the sorrow of once before,

would being numb be even more torturous as being alone?.

Details | Alice Faith Poem

beauty around

we’re always surrounded by art, i realized this as a child walking through the massachusetts city’s. i remember seeing your everyday buildings with the beautiful moonlight and being in awe- how could we forget something so simple yet beautiful exists all around us? as a teenager i took photographs of buildings- cars and the heavens above. i never totally understood how others couldn’t- how you could see something so beautiful and simple and not be in complete awe? i remember hearing people say “she’s taking another photograph of the same sky!” and feeling a bit sorry for them- that they couldn’t view something so treasurable and beautiful as me. i felt sorry they lacked the volume in there souls to admire the soil we walk on. the simplicity of it all, how could one’s soul never yearn for a deeper meaning in life? how could the poets forget something so simple around them? the grocery store owned by your neighbor- the park near your house. if you look for it deep enough the beauty is always there surrounding you in a shield of emotions and empathy, how could someone never yearn for more of the beauty around them?

Details | Alice Faith Poem

disgust of men

seeing the way the men around you act within the shadows then within the daylight smile and care within a holy “reasoning”-
 purely disgusts the soul. 

knowing that the men around you have been capable such sinful acts that rot the soul, 

as i gaze into their eyes it feels as if im searching through their souls-
degrading and picking apart each unholy piece,

 it gives them earth shattering knowledge that someone knows of their sins. like a sinful man spewing to the preacher. 

i can tell they feel the same.

 i can feel the shame and disgust within themselves as i search through their soul through their eyes-

 they can feel the shallow disgust radiating off my soul,

 as if it was the devil looking the blinding lights of heavens in the direct soul-
 i can feel the unholiness inside themselves. 

yet this isn’t my intention-

 it’s their guilt of the shameful things they have done im merely just looking it in the eye.

Details | Alice Faith Poem

blood and ink

as a child i often found myself participating in sadistic activities.

i felt my sins rotting into my body-
into my soul as-well my veins.

it kept my blood pumping throughout my body that i did neglect.

i protested against consuming meals as if they’d make me feel holy again,
sick i was.

the blood that clawed out out my skin begging for relief of this tainted soul.
the thickened red river that poured from my wrists-
spilled onto pages.

a paper about the “cleanse”-
i had in my now “holy” body,

“sickened” activities made me feel whole again.

as if the river from the wrists would fix the tears i wept.

if the bandages on my now healed wrists would fix the bandages on my tainted soul.

i had once had a lords preacher tell me: “the lord will forgive you for the things you have done to yourself”-

i did not need the lord forgiveness.

i had begged for the lords help-
prayed my tears away for a simple sign.

i wept my sorrows into letters for their lord for him to kill me painless,

if this was our god i did not want him.

the lord never watched me as i couldn’t fathom the idea of being normal again.

i was born like this i suppose-
hungry for the blood spill that would give me relief from my sorrows even if it was for a few divine seconds.

i sit on my cold floor the same ones i had once bled onto and poured my soul onto.

i write as if my sorrows are not lingering.

i write like my wrists are not bandaged and wrapped.

i write like this was a tragic past, like the light switch was flipped on into the dark room of grief but that is not the truth.

i weep onto the pages, my tears and blood based on painful past become the ink from my stories.

i write as if the ink on pages will rewrite the sorrowful story of my past.

i know it won’t.

i beg the pages to tell me i’ll be a changed women now.

they laugh as the ink spills onto the paper.

i tell myself i’ll write tomorrow instead.