You had just gone.
I heard your door close.
You'd touched my hair and smiled at me
And left
And I'd called after that you were beautiful,
That I meant it.
And when I'd heard the click,
The tears had started
And I'd let them come.
Crying over you feels like being saved.
I let my head fall back
As if basking in a summer rain
And eventually those tears brought me to my knees-
There is always a backlash, to feeling saved-
And I curled up as tight as I could on the floor
And- I don't know why I said it,
I never say things like this, never-
But I remember whispering very softly,
"I'm still here. Please know I'm still here.
Please come back out and check.
Please... I'm still here."
And a moment passed
In utter silence,
And I hauled myself off the ground,
Wiped away a good part of the tears,
Turned to the window to let the cold air kiss my face
And brace me for the walk back to my room

And I heard the door open.
No, it can't be...

You heard me.
You came back,
And took me in your arms,
And nobody
Has ever done that for me before.

Sometimes I look both ways before saying "God"
like I'm trying to be politically correct, since I don't go to church or believe in sin.

But God is subjective, and it comes from within.

It's one more universal truth polluted and perverted
by deluded
social constructs
just like drugs, money, *** and gender
and proper moral conduct
(it doesn't exist)

Well, not they way they've taught us.

don't have too much fun, do drugs only if they're prescribed
(you'll know that it's a sin if it gets you high)
Don't breathe out of rhythm or you'll be deemed a *****,
unless it's for procreation,
but still - pretend ******* are a chore.

Listen to your daddy and watch your mother silently nod,
question what he says, and his reply won't be "because I said so," but it'll be
"because God"

A WHITE MAN WHO HATES GAYS AND CONTROLS WOMEN
did you say God or Fraud?
Is that a stain on your white linen?

Your omnipotent holy deity,
I regret to inform you,
is a mere projection of human fallacies,
enlarged and stretched across the walls we build out of fear.
your God is a tool.

And I'm supposed to feel shame
when I so carelessly toss around His name
"Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain"
but what does it matter when God itself is running through my veins?

If only I didn't care to hang on;
to hang on is to suffer
yet a bit of suffering
can be very good for you.

Stalking silently, the predator watches in the deep.
Noticing your every move
Craving your every scent
The predator knows your fear.
He feels it in the air like a virus.
You can’t evade him.



(lunarlullubies)