#this was like the first real poem i ever wrote and im still hella proud but ive grown so much since then!

[felixxthefrog]

i used to wonder what it was like on the other side

all they spoke of was hell

fire, brimstone, pain

darkness

loneliness

that is what they told me of the other pastures

what they showed me

as they lectured lifeless from the pulpit

if i'd known what the other side really looked like

i might've left sooner

(i wish i would have known)

sleepy sunday mornings

under the softest blankets

drinking in the honey sun that streams through the blinds

staying home and just existing

(do you think they know what it's like?)

a dim room filled with friends

floating two inches off the ground once the gin burn fades

stifled giggles and giddy conversations

swaying to the music

all of us together, no longer alone

(this is my sanctuary)

what it is to sing with no purpose, with only love for myself

screaming the lyrics i once hid from my parents

broken harmonies

mending souls, hearts, minds

not worrying about closed eyes and raised hands

just headphones in the kitchen

and the taste of her cherry chapstick

(this is my worship)

the pleasure of food

the pleasure of self

the pleasure of sleeping in the same bed

warm bodies tangled together, pressed against each other, desperate

in a wordless understanding of comfort and care

(this is what saves me)

what it's like to live without the pressures of hemlines

and necklines

and sleeves

without wondering if it's bad how much you touch

or how pretty her lips are from across the room

not caring if they see you at that place they deemed demonic

or if they see you gazing longingly when she shows off her new dress

(i'm not afraid anymore)

not of lips

and stomachs

and noses bumping together

and fluttering breath

her nails digging into my back

her drunken kisses sobered me

(this is what heaven is like)

not to listen to a booming voice from the heavens

nor from the stage

only the quiet ones in my heart

and the kind ones around me

(i wish god had sounded like this)

the butterflies at hearing those words that feel true

to who and what i am

the labels, but not the bad ones

not the guilt trips, just the words i chose to depict my truest self

the words i chose to show my colors in all their beauty

the way i want them

the people that i chose

not out of obligation

but the ones who love me, the ones who truly care

(they are my congregation)

being guiltless and reckless

and full of questions

but not the ones that make me worry

the weightless freedom of insignificance

and indifference

and not being scared.

-what they didn't tell me about the other side