i am surrounded by
angels.
angels of mercy,
Angel of my heart,
angels of forgiveness.
to be forgiven though
i do not deserve it, to
become worthy
of the mercy that plagues me.
to become worthy
through the mercy that
plagues me.
i find years old
letters i wrote to God,
some separate terrifying entity.
i write;
i peel oranges.
slowly, all in one go.
round and round.
only the sun has come close enough,
the sunlight’s touched all of me;
i belong there.
the sun knows me.
nothing has changed,
but the sunrise halts me in my
place.
colours melting
down into the horizon,
cresting the rising and falling of my
chest.
i am molten gold
in the sun.
it makes me giggle and
laugh and take
photos of the golden rush.
obsessed with angels,
and praying to become one.
obsessive and dedicated and
addicted;
to myself, to my writing,
to the sunlight.
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