There Aren't Any Words In Which I Could Put The Purest Act Of Your Love That Is Sitting With Me At Night

there aren't any words in which I could put the purest act of your love that is sitting with me at night and listening to me complain about writing poems and songs

I hope you realise all the love in them is for you

gone are the times

when you couldn't sleep

not knowing where I was.

and now this home again

is just as cold as i have

remembered.

I come back from the snowfall

to see my brother leaving and

to you sleeping soundly as ever

and I cannot be upset at any of that.

but I just wish growing old wasn't so hard

• "turning seventeen" - zero (me)

there's a bitter aftertaste for every word I swallow

there's a pit in my stomach but it turns at the sight of food

there's an imagine imbedded in my brain that won't go away

there's a fly in my room and I'm afraid it's after my rot

I haven't slept well since the last time I saw you

- getting worse - zero (me)

godless children in your churches!

and an atheist f*ggot is teaching them about life!

they are both so dirty and unworthy!

the priest asks for kids who wanna say a prayer

say it loud and proud for the whole church

in front of a microphone for all to see

a dozen little hands shoot up immediately in your eye sight

all of those tiny tired eyes sparkle with hope and faith

for they are still to learn that not even god loves them

the priest does not choose any of the precious children with tired eyes

he chooses a few ones that are dressed appropriately

for church and for the weather

for their age and current fashion trends

a boy who almost never talks drops his head and murmurs

"he's never chosen me yet"

oh is this boy to learn that it takes more than luck to be chosen!

an atheist is asked where god sleeps at night

the answer is far away, just in case

we were to riot at night and he'd have to take blame

an atheist is asked how do we get to heaven?

the answer is, how would I know

god has stated he hates people who love like me

my mother would tell you we get there beautiful and perfect

and I don't believe in your fairytale god

but I believe there's no more ways a child full of hope can be beautiful

but if there's a heaven

if there's a god listening

let death be kinder to these children.

let there be heaven, even if just for them.

let there be warm clothes and shoes without holes

let there be a death, kinder than men

let death be kinder than priests, who can only complain

how unraised they are,

as if we didn't know before

let death take their hands gently and not leave any scabs

let heaven be a place for a better start

• "kids tend to ask hard questions" - zero (me)

you improvise a home by street lights

act like the dark is welcoming enough

leave at the same hour day by day

noone really knows what you're doing

you don't really know what you're searching for

your sister calls it running away

you try to say it's anything but

who are you trying to convince

your sister calls it running away

your mother says it is alright for

you get back when it's getting late

your sister calls it running away

you don't think it's a run if noone's chasing

zero (me)

the universe is screaming in my face

I stand under a clear sky and beg

beg it to let me feel at home

I get awoken at night to look to the sky

and see constellations I cannot read

the universe is screaming in my face

but numbers and stars aren't my language

and I was taught there's only one god

- zero (me)

(I've been slacking in posting poems because I'm working on a project that needs me to write poems in my native language, and those don't do well on Tumblr. not that anyone missed them)