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One cannot
simultaneously
'follow' One
who taught the sacred virtue
of kindness
and the discipline
of empathy
and the wisdom
of compassion
allthewhile condoning
a hateful
and stratified
system.

The penultimate,
infinite,
impalpable,
ineffable,
immortal,
transcend­ent,
conceptual,
conscious Divinity
needn't a Temple;
for t'is existence, itself,
that is the Temple.

Further, I venture,
that t'is we:
the Mortal Divine,
the blinded,
muted,
deafened,
ignorant,
schismatic,
fractured,
lost,
­material,
incredulous ephimerality
who seems to so need the Temple.

Who are we
to be so arrogant?

Why can't we just respect diversity?

What the ****?



Life is sacred.
Anonymous Anyone Aug 2014
I tested the waters
Finding them satisfactory, I walked into the shower without reluctance
and stood, staring straight down at the drain, watching it all wash away.
Laughter, pain, remembrances, time spent
disappeared down that hole quicker than I would ever have imagined
or dreamed
or feared.
So as the water flowed over my open skin I didn’t even feel the pain
the stinging fire that burns for a few seconds, leaves, then returns
just like her.
I didn’t feel that stinging pain
I was already numb by then
just like I always am.
Then I noticed the water flowing down my face, it reminded me of tears
and how long it’s been since I’ve used them.
I was never really good at crying
my childhood robbed me of that
this simulation of tears is all I get.
Then, I realized
just like I do everyday
It’s a good thing she hates me too
like she always has
with so much love.
But it makes me stand in the shower for another forty-five minutes
as I scream silently
as loud as I can without opening my mouth.
How could you just give up?
Was I never enough?
I simply remained, wishing with all my might
that this shower would be my brief respite.
Please, just wash all of our memories away
I continued to plead
allthewhile knowing that it would be impossible for me
and that I’ll alway be here
helpless
for whenever you need me again
bennu Mar 2021
I want you to have
Nice things
Nice dreams
Green leaves, warm springs
Clear waters, soft skin
All the dreams you can fit
In your pretty little
Heart

And head.
Finger callouses, kayak sunsets
Worn out running shoes
Lofty secrets

Lavish romance
True grit
Better than
These desperate stabs

Allthewhile
I'm sinking like a stone
I cannot leave
These thoughts alone
The ponderings of a deadened mind.

— The End —