limber urchin
how did I know
it wasn't meant for me?
maybe it was the fact that eternal happiness seemed less appealing
than the flat darkness of being unaware
maybe it was the sour sizzle of bile in my throat
every time I took a bow,
pledging myself to a deity I've never thought of as real.
maybe it was the way it scarred my pride
to be hurt
to see hurt
and to be able to do nothing about it
while the god they all claim is up there
is simply watching it happen.
maybe it is because I know I never learned
how to care about anything but myself.
to give my heart to someone tangible is hard enough--
but a god?
give me a break.
forgive me if I seem cynical
if I anger you and your beliefs
but I've been hurt by far too many people
who use faith as their weapon
instead of their shield.
in a perfect world,
they wouldn't need a shield,
but our breed of monster does so love to attack
to cause irreversible pain
simply for the sake of seeing it bleed.
I often think about how
for a religion
so firmly based on love
why is it that it's a sin to do just that?
the gender of a person doesn't make the heart any softer,
the eyes a little kinder,
or the smile a little wider.
and it sure as hell doesn't make me any blinder.
so, to answer you—
it wasn't for me because I'm angry
and prideful
and all those things christianity hates,
but most of all,
I'm who I'm meant to be—
I've forever cut the strings of the false puppeteer.
don't call me ignorant—
this religion is what I know
what I grew up for,
I could tell you every story, every rule,
and that's exactly why I see the falsities
and have decided to take back the reigns.
I'm sorry, I really am.
I'm sorry to all the people who counted on me to stay confined
to stay controlled—
but don't expect me to stick around.
you always say I'm too flagrant
too spontaneous,
too entitled—
but really, I'm just free.
carmine knot
river lava
dark nest