I just wanted to say thank you.
I wanted to thank you for helping make me who I am.
I wanted to thank you for pushing me forward when I was satisfied.
I wanted to thank you for being upset when I let you down.
and for lifting me up when I wanted to frown.
I wanted to tell you--How grateful I am.
Not only for writing me a letter of rec.
but for writing to me when I felt wrecked,
and for keeping your room open after work was “done”
Because I know, secretly, that room was your heart
even though your sarcasm made that fact hard to tease apart.
I wanted to let you know I am happy.
Not terribly happy, not without problems.
But happy enough where I can get up every morning
and complain about growing into a better person.
I wanted  to let you know I totally identified with
what I imagined your fears where when you first left for college.
And that I hope my fears will also help others when they leave as well.
I wanted to tell you I liked watching you cry.
Which probably makes you roll your eyes,
but it let me know, I could maybe, one day, be as strong as you.
I wanted to wish you prosperity, and hope, and love.
Because my aunt just had a baby too,
Whom I met this past winter
And I swear,
when I looked in her little her eyes
I saw the Universe.
It kinda funny that they named her Jasmine.
I wanted to tell you, that sometimes I re-read the letter you wrote me for graduation.
Especially when I feel the world is only filled with desperation,
When I need motivation,
When I wonder what in tarnation I’m doing with my life.
Sometimes, It's hard to miss home--even to miss friends.
I know we all are probably too busy to miss each other all the time.
But I wanted to say,
**Thank you.

Only Your existence
could make 'nothing'
a verb.

Every Sunday.
Every Sunday--I sit down in the pews.
And look down at my shoes,
and stare.
Stare at my hands, wrung together.
White with tension,
ready for prayer.
Stare at this great big cross, looking down at me.
Then I begin to cry.
Thinking, “Forgive me Jesus,
but I’m not gonna lie.”
You’re not gonna save me, and I’m too ******* tired.

Jesus Christ! Here we go again.
This spiral into abysmal self-loathing.
And all because
I can’t open my mouth when we sing Christmas carols.
All because I find more Light in belly laughter,
than in the fervent begging that comes after confession.
Excuse me--for not believing my humanity lies in a little white wafer.
Your religion is a drug and your Faith, an ecstasy I cannot swallow.
Unlike the *******, who washed the feet of Jesus with her tears,
My tears are too muddied with doubt to save anything.
All because “Peace be with you” can never really mend--My fears.
All because
I see more hope when I see two men holding hands,
than in tense fists with wedding bands.
All because
I find *** a holy act--two awkward, laughing, comfortable bodies.
Making a pilgrimage, of the holiest kind.

I know, What will save me.
It’s those kind pats on the back, on a bad day.
It’s the feeling of exhaustion
after offering your heart to someone,
It’s the hope that sprouts from your tummy,
when you breathe in the Earth’s energy.
It’s the naked human body,
with its fragile human soul.
It’s the dancing we do, when we sit in silent meditation.
It’s the freedom to speak and think,
And the freedom to decide:
**What saves me.