Paradise lost
I wonder sometimes
What sin really is
If it is
Or if it is simply the only way
To explain the unexplainable.
Our humanity courses through veins that sing questions
That bleed questions
That pound questions into our temples when we try to sleep at night
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
And eventually
We find our answers
Or we die.
But is sin?
Is it?
Or did somebody just need
A reason
For the cruelty
Of a lover?
Here is my
Religion
Here is my
Self medication
Here
Is the apology I will never get
And so eventually
I apologize
Just
So that somebody has:
Paradise lost
And somebody
Needs to be sorry
Right?
See,
Those of us who love
Like we're at prayer
Those of us who lie with
Angels
Who reach up with our mortal fingers
And trace the features
Of sculpted, velvet faces
Those of us who covet
Gods
And who are thrown from
Heaven
Ours is not to question their reasons.
They have no reasons.
Gods need none.
Humans need excuses, need why's and rationalizations
Gods
Do what they please
And they do not have reasons.
When you love a god
Your task is to survive her choices
Not question them.
I have learned-
Gods do not explain.
Gods do not listen.
Gods decide
Blindly
Permanently
Instantly
And offer no justification.
Gods decide

Alone.

And gods
Are never wrong.

I have learned
It is not for us
To challenge choices
That torture us with their suddenness.
It is not for us
To yearn for paradise
Just because we cannot understand
Why it is over.
It is not for us
To ask
Why did you leave?
Of a god who says
She never lies
Who says she loves you
And casts you out
As if the two can both
Be truths.
You can tear the universe to shreds
Trying to make sense of the truths they whisper
And shout.
The words they build you up
And demolish you with.
I could rip a hole
In all of reality
And still the love and hatred of
My own personal
Broken god
Would not fit into
One world.
You can drive yourself mad
Trying to divine the reasons
Of deities.
But
Having gained and lost paradise
So many times
I have finally learned that
The end game is this:
They are gods
Because we love them.
They are gods
Because we worship
And
They can do
Whatever they want.
There is no wrong
There is no right
There is only
Them
And they
Make both
And they change both
With the direction of the wind.

If you love someone
In a sacred way
In a pure way
In a transcendent way
What it means is that
They own you
They control your reality
And you
Must live in whatever world
They decide you deserve.

And they will
Decide.
And you will
Kneel.

It is not pretty.
It is not fair.
It leaves little room for pride
But
That
Is how it goes
When you love
A god.

And whether it seems wrong or right
The hard truth is
If you spend your life
Asking why...
*That life will not continue
For very much longer.

you may call it
critiquing
but you're just an *******

But who cares if the words you write
can't be properly articulated by others?

Your thoughts weren't meant to be recycled
and simplified through someone's criticism
Your work can't be measured that simply
if at all
because its worth is limitless
it will remain immortal
for if you die, your words will not wither away like you

They'll grow out of you like flowers
and the ink from your pen has its unique flow
circles and straight lines
scribbles and doodles
whatever path your thoughts lead you to
it's the right one