Image by Maike und Björn Bröskamp from Pixabay


My best friend asks that I suggest worship songs
she can use in summoning Jesus. She wants him
to remould the shattered pieces of her life
and bake her in a furnace of gold.

I hold no memory of when she became a Christian,
lest religious enough to want the holy ghost
hold a revival in her body.
She is always the one to know when Davido
is releasing a track or going on tour.

Jesus must have found his way into her life,
or perhaps she found him during her escapades.
I feel guilty her salvation did not come through me —
one gold star lost.

Unlike her, I am unable to find myself in other’s playlist —
finding God is harder.
I still cannot wrap my head around the concept of trinity.
God being one and three at the same.

It is said that I am crafted in his image yet I cannot mirror
him and become one without bi polar ends.
Bits of me lie in NF’s song and I blame Juice WRLD for that.
Slim Shady has beaten the violence out of me and I have learnt
to find solitude in the Beauty Behind Madness.

I am terrified that my phone sings Hallelujah
when I am not watching. I pray God doesn’t punish me
for skipping gospel songs while I assemble the pieces of myself.

Semilore Kilaso is a student Quantity Surveyor and writer who loves to collect photographs of humans, architecture, wildlife, and landscape. When she is not playing Scrabble or reading books, she is reading lines from architectural drawings. Her work appears in Culturalweekly, Entropy Magazine, The Radical Art Review, Nantygreens, and elsewhere. You can reach her on twitter @ooreola

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