You're searching for God
in the arms of a pretty Arab boy
with a sense of humour.
He looks like the Disney Prince
you loved as a child.
You hope to your god and his
that he can banish the thoughts
that chain you from heavens gates,
Because you love him, you say,
no matter what he does that makes you weep,
and no matter how little your heart flutters
when he holds you.
He's handsome, yet he doesn't inspire poetry
with his looks or his mind,
and as your heart grows more distant
you find yourself begging for affection
like you're starved of it.
You tell yourself you're expecting too much,
that it won't get better than this,
though the girl you saw on the street
with the vintage dress and the red hair
clings to your thoughts
like her perfume clung to the air.
One day, the boy fucks up
and you know you have to leave,
but your heart has left already,
the moment you realised she thrills you
more than he ever did.
Maybe you won't search for God
in a boy you cannot love.
Maybe you'll search for yourself
in a girl who makes your heart beat so fast
that you can hear chains breaking,
and heaven rushes down to meet you
YOU ARE READING
supine thoughts
PoetryPoetry exploring thoughts into love, sexuality, mental health and navigating the modern world.