Human

There is no more tidy faith to ride the waves of this life
No more fearsome ambition to feed my hunger for success

There's only these:
words and visions in my head
pounding out color.
Everywhere flashing
the royal purple, blue and gold
through my mind
and across my eyes.

Characters of ignoble intent running through my imagination
destroying kingdoms and waging war against the tyranny of the status quo
all of this
all of these
and the light of the waves.

I know
the final score
and how the film will come to its end.

We all want to know the future
but I never wanted to find out
my long trudge towards death
in all its gory detail.

Yet here I am
with the knowledge of good and evil
running through my veins
fueling my racing,
fragile,
heartbeat.

Completely, utterly, desperately, beautifully, broken
human.

Stripped Bare

What I feel, is that,
I'm breaking apart and I'm not quite sure who I am.

Because I used to define myself by
achievement/thinness/health/religion/workaholism/intelligencce

and now I'm
worn out/overwhelmed/stressed/unhealthy/feeling stupid

I resent the healthy, the people accomplishing,
because how dare they
when I can't
and how come
it's not being taken away from them
when it's being taken away from me?

Is it my fault?
Is there something I could do to cure myself
and I'm not, and I should, and what's wrong with me?

"Those who were not my people
I will call ‘my people,’
and her who was not beloved
I will call ‘my beloved."

What if

at the end of all of this

the only thing I'll know about myself 

isn't that I'm the healthiest

most accomplished

smartest

hardest worker

but that I'm deeply, desperately loved

deserving of forgiveness,

and hope

and all things pure, good, true,

and restful. 

The Vase

And the place where the
flowers stood, orange and flowing
stands empty, wanting.

This Is Who I Belong To

Iron cracking into bone, agonal breathing, screaming. 

This is Who I belong to. 

Side of flesh ripped and gushing the elements of the sacraments I partake in

This is Who I belong to.

Laughing with his friends on the shore
while he makes them breakfast

This is Who I belong to

The one who did so many good, miraculous, healing things
that the world could not contain them all in on parchment

This is Who I Belong To 

When she was shamed for pouring her priceless gift on his feet
instead of selling it for coin
he honored all she had to offer

This is Who I Belong To

extending his love and wisdom to an adulterous heretic

This is Who I Belong To. 

To the antagonizing BELITTLING  fighting GATEKEEPERS |lines|In|the|Sand|:

Though you will feast with me
you do not set the parameters of the feast
thought you will sit by me
you do not choose who enters this banquet
(neither do I, thank Heaven)

the seating arrangements were never up to us
and no matter what you insist upon

the man who invites all to the wedding feast

Is Who I Belong To.