kneel down at the church and hope to God he's listening
****** mary was always crying, always looking up past the ceiling, the choir always singing about cleaning your heart because jesus wanted a clear glasshouse
what's that? is it the beat of my stained heart or the gasps between tears in my room?
my loss of faith only came when a new feeling knocked on my door: love
but it wasn't the "normal" love that i had been hearing in preachings –forget that, it wasn't jesus loving me or some boy trying to get my attention, it was a girl– which was so taboo in my house and school that i didn't even know that was possible.
three words came out of research: homophobic, homosexual, lesbian
I looked past the ceiling when I realised caught feelings for this girl and when she asked me out I prayed to God, the one we were taught about in preachings, that this would be worth it, that this would last long, that this would be supported love–but forget it, he wasn't listening
I tried calling him, i confessed, i mentally and physically tried to clear my glasshouse. I went to church, i got prophecies told by the local preachers, i sang and quoted the bible, where was he? where was he when i needed him when my parents told me to stop loving her? where was he when my depression came around and decided to ruin everything? did he let me down on purpose for not following his rules? and when i found out that other religions existed, was he punishing me for sinning? Questioning his existence under the catholic faith turned him into a deception
And what was the point of that? Teaching me how to be a better human being by punishing me and shaming what i thought was okay? Love is supposed to be okay, love is supposed to be supported and supportive, love is supposed to protect and be protected –and all i get is being thrown out to the curb because i found love? Because it wasn't the "right" kind of love?
jesus, i hope to god you're not listening anymore

when the heat wave strikes, do not move
it is better to become transparent and allow it to go through you
holding onto suffering will only cause more pain
either way when something is too cold or too hot it burns

when spring arrives and the roses sprout
do not be fooled again by their beauty
their smell always tries to lure you in, but you have to know better
each thorn you’ve pressed your skin against has left a scar
but you will know better
it is all about patience

when you think you are falling apart
and you suddenly mirror the petals of the roses that have hurt you
think better
you are stronger than the pain that hurt you in the past seasons
when you are afraid that you are falling into old habits
when you think you are mirroring the actions of others that hurt you
think better
you might think you can’t keep going
but you will sprout again

and when the winter comes for you
become transparent and let it go through you
the rose field withers away
you are a creature of cold
you will remain while the pest wilts
you will be your own rose field
hold onto yourself,
you will care about yourself the mostq

it’s not the same as your usual friday night. it never was. honestly i kept wishing that i could have that sort of connection, that sort of relation with someone like that. people said pray, He’ll hear; ****, I wish He was a Woman instead of some Man that I’ve got to refer to. Should’ve kneeled down with meaning on the benches back in ’05 and should’ve listened to them when they said pray. ****, I wish It would’ve helped me when I thought I needed help; I can never be sure of what qualifies for Him for me to get some sort of attention. ****, when will I see it? can i see it? can i believe in something i don’t feel? kneel down and pray kneel down and pray kneel down and pray will i see you knee l down and pray at nighttime when everyone but you and him are asleep and whisper slowly to yourself maybe you’ll make yourself believe that you believe maybe these placebo words will fulfill it enough for one night and maybe you’ll believe that you believe .

a red aura: grounded, realistic active, the densest colour

you are the densest colour
it is all around you, means so many things
synonym with love, synonym with indulgence, synonym with satisfaction
a core constantly radiating carmine all around you
you are the lightest hug
the sweet oatmeal served by your mom when you get sick
a witch’s tears that create a rainbow
magnifying glass burning patches of grass in the summer
you are true or false questions
the glitter in puddles
roots of daisies

under the dim light
standing right in front of the shore, big big sun slowly sinking into the ocean
“kinda looks like the lion king scene but backwards”
54, 55, 56, 57, 58, it’s all dark
little lanterns are suddenly the only source of light near us, buildings start opening one eye after the other, how many eyes do buildings have at night?
how transparent are your windows?
“smells like salt, i have sand in my mouth”
fireflies are not common here but luckily they have come tonight to say hello to us while we are together for once. i mean, fireflies are a sign that this is just more than what it looks like? can this be more than just a nighttime thing, i wanna see you more often
“when was the first time you saw a firefly”
the first time i saw a firefly i was waiting for my mom to pick me up from my dance class. i was maybe eleven at the time and it was around 8 pm and girls were coming in and out of the place for about 5 minutes- then it was all calm once again and while the music was blasting and going thru the walls i saw a little light from the other side of the street - it was very blue at the moment- and it was like a little flickering on and on - i thought someone was trying to morse-code me but the building in front of us was empty - no lights on. i stared  long enough to realise it was a little firefly that had just come from the mountains surrounding the area - i thought it was a fairy. i read a book that said that fireflies tell fairies where there’s danger and when it’s safe to be out, so i think seeing a firefly for the first time was very magical, but i never saw any until 4 years later by the beach in a completely different country, different surrounding, and there were multiple
we were walking thru some bushes to get to the beach and halfway thru the walk the fireflies lit the way to a little beach opening, but it was different this time: i was 15, not alone, not thinking about fairies, just amazed at how many fireflies were around me: i think fireflies are magical. you are magical
this story i s so slightly personal
i want to lay next to you on the beach and get sand on my hair and just point out how beautiful you are because thinking about you brings me to absolute tears just because you’re so overwhelmingly and absolutely gorgeous and flawless and the fireflies light up your face better than a candle - you’re bioluminescent
i’m telling you this because tonight feels like that night where i first saw that firefly but it smells like the ocean right now and the sky looks like it wants us to be underwater - i think it’s beautiful when the sky mimics the exact shade of the ocean, kind of like a sapphire blue colour- the densest colour.
you’re beautiful. thinking of you brought back this story of fireflies out of me and i think that is a sign - are you another firefly in my life? fairy dust
i think the charms fairies put in us are not always the best ones - my mistake, we don’t know how to handle magic when it’s performed
magic: i think you’re magical
i think you’re lovely
i think you’re more than the sun setting and the wake up of the buildings and the fireflies and fairy dust and sand
i think you’re the warmth of the sun right after you get out of the ocean, i think you’re bioluminescent, i think you’re the wind when it’s 11C outside and you get to wear your favourite hoodie outside, i think you’re butter melting on toast i think you’re the deepest colour, i think you’re the deepest colour, i think you’re holding the deepest aura, i think you’re a child’s night lamp, i think you’re the deepest colour: red is the deepest colour, love is the deepest feeling
i think i love you
i think i’m thinking too much but i’m thinking about you and i think we should think about thinking about the first time we had sand in our mouths
the beach is beautiful at night and it’s chilly and the wind is always spilling a little more sand every time it sneezes. sand or fairy dust? i love you
anything i write won’t even compare to how much love i have right now for you, i can’t keep writing but i wish i could show you how much you mean to me
it’s so hard when i can’y hug you but i want to be surrounded by fireflies when we go out

The sky faded from cyan to ash and we had to go before it turned purple.
“It’s dangerous!” – the park managers started yelling.
I mean, it was. We surely could have gotten struck by lightning and died fried and burnt like a chicken in oil.  It was not our day tho: not to die at least.
If I died in any other way, it was when we sat under the ceiling by the green benches and watched the rain pour. Just that. It would rain harder and harder and my head on my friend’s shoulder would get heavier and heavier. I think we spent around 15 minutes like that: quiet, in our bubble. Then I started crying. I don’t know who poured heavier and who looked the bluest, the sky or me. Completely embarrassed, my brown eyes turning into puddles avoided the eyes of my company, but it was almost impossible. She turned my head around with one hand on both of my cheeks and looked at me. We spent a good 5 minutes just staring at each other, and my tears would not stop flowing. The rain wasn’t stopping. The cold was rising.

I didn’t know what to do. Her eyes were so green and so dull yet so hypnotizing. Everything about them made me wonder when I would get to know her as much as I wanted to. Did I want to know her? Just a friend electrocuting me with the touch of her hands. She was not doing anything, I wanted everything. Just like that I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her left cheek. Once. I kissed her forehead. Twice. I kissed her right cheek. Once. I kissed the tip of her nose. Once, then twice; I just looked at her afterwards, feeling her gaze intensify along with the rain, the cold crawling into my bones and bringing back the physical pain of a twisted ankle and wrist. I let go. My eyes turned into mud but not for too long. She pulled me closer by my burgundy sweater and got closer to my face slowly: too slow. I was too impatient, but I let her take her time. I met her lips for the first time and they were as warm as the cigarettes she smokes before class and as sweet as her strawberry lip balm. I don’t know for how long we stayed like that, but it was just like time had stopped for us, like the rain maintained its intensity, like thunders hit the same place twice, like the sky lit up lilac at the same tempo. It was too cold.