st-st-st-ic-k-eeeeeeee

Camp is overrrrrrr and it took my voice away just like it stole my heart :')
My rashes have not stopped itching though.
Showed myself what I could do for people for a change
Showed myself what I could do for myself for the first time.
Ah but please pardon the crudeness and lewdness I have displayed, even with His name clinging onto my sweaty skin, even as I carry this internal cross in my heart.
I haven't felt this free for the longest time ever.
I think He knows :')

So I slept with sticky legs every night
Thinking about how sticky I really have been; I seriously need this break
Thinking about how deb had said I'm so beautifully human with everything that I'm going through even though I'm scared stiff and as confused as a puzzled puzzle
Or the fact that I'm ready to be somewhere else without you
And giving your eyes and your heart my blessings

mm and I've felt the burn when the thorn pricked the nightingale's heart
yet the student went on to study his philosophy and metaphysics
things greater, greater than love (because love is for fools, love is for the weak)
went on without knowing, without knowing
the way she gave it all away in silence, the way she let it lead her in
like a lamb to the slaughter:
it is the same blood

So I slept with sticky eyes every night
Making sure that they'd work for every other boy out there
Making sure they don't give me away
Cos I have resolved to making this work
So I killed the music that made me cringe
And sought sweet words that soothed my sore lids and smoothed my furrowed brows
I swear I've looked like an angel in the midst of this
This is for beauty,
This is for my hunger and thirst
Both tired and strained sick
Haha like my voice, my voice

And that was where I broke every night
In my sleeping bag, on carpeted but hard floor
Those few minutes before daylight hits me like a dream all over again
Those few minutes where my head hits the pillow in the afternoons at home; I'm tired of these moments
With an open window, beckoning the firmament to come fill the void in me
The huge bougainvillea bush my mother planted, with its papery bracts holding its tiny flowers together
A tune or two before the war begins
Before trying to sleep it all off

Dear Optimism,
Make me your victim for once
Dear God,
Make me your favourite prayer, the neediest one You've ever heard.
I will rely on You this time

You will never have me this way ever again.

Yet what the fuck can I say
The mess I created and frolicked in my own selfish mud
Self-entertained, yes that I truly have been.

Then again
I have found new surrender
But have you found me yet.