
com.fort. i am designed to build from within and destroy from outside. when i hear the church bell. i take pleasure in challengin’ religion. it feels sweet. when i do not have to follow schedules, rituals, celebrations. written on a calendar in red ink. yellin’ at me. do this and that, follow that, skip that. do not eat meat on fridays. even though it is the only food you have at home that day.
com.fort. when i was throwin’ these flowers on the street for corpus christi. i never thought about god. the only reason i felt comfort. there was the smell of incense emanatin’ from the portable altar. every time a priest passed by. it was a moment worth livin’ for. in those warm june months.
com.fort. when you do somethin’ to me. i never expected it. cos you were there all the time. when i dared to jump. from high fences. breakin’ my legs and my heart. for things i did not even need. and now. i am standin’ in front of you. muted. perplexed. what could you think of me? when all i want is you. to hold you. to feel your breath on my face. to know that i matter. the same that i always feel. bein’ around you. even without you. utterin’ the word.
com.fort. what a joke, this life. locked in my own brain. i feel safe. yet when i try to get out. let the words out through my mouth. i cannot express it properly. they twist and twirl like a ballerina tutu. in previously unknown directions. distortin’ their meanin’. from the scurvy. point of view. they look differently. unrecognisable. out of my head. what a shame!
com.fort. i am ok. whilst in my brain. listenin’ to crickets. hidden in dark nooks and crannies. they speak to me, and not the others. as people used to warp the message. like an old sheet of paper. or a fast-food wrap. smelly, greasy, yellowish. screamin’. with thoughts and ideas that i never need. not beneficial. for my inner comfort. so, i try to avoid. lyin’ on the beach. in my own company. and others in me. whenever i need. their thoughts. to contemplate. when comin’ out of the most terrible darkness.
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August 2022
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Thank you for reading!
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...




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