If I were to create one belief to hold on to so conclusively, let the minutes of all the times I’ve spent with you be the witness of my praying hours.
For if the command of time itself was held in your being, I will devote my existence to this faith I have under yours, if not more faithful than the ones whose appearance can be traced back to the origin of existence, who would claim themselves as saint, furthermore claim to know how to pray as holy as holiness.
The sole cure of my own pity lay right over the palm of your hand, a place where I can’t feel their spectating eyes, talking over the way I only hum verses that contradict instead of chasing the linear as those whose vows are considered norms.
I do not wish to obey gravity’s pull where it’s headed towards a point on which I would stand straight beneath the past. For only here I’m allowed to have full control over my flesh, to forget the times of needing to play a character that has been so carefully constructed to contradict my own being ever since life found its space along my lungs.
And so my dear, only on your permit, allow me to strip away all the blemishes within the hollow of your heart.
Allow me to fill the in-betweens with the faith of my own for you to feel the way I pray, both to and for.
Written by : Kalila
Edited by : Khong Lam
