I wanted "a god I could believe in," so I made an idol out of you. Bodies as altars. Passion as church. Obedience as pleasure. Submission rained on Earth as I ascended into that coveted space. Atheistic. Sacrilegious. Starving for Divinity. The longer we played; the more I knew. I was drawn to The Intangible even as I touched you. Man is powerful, but man cannot read my mind. Man takes my breath away, but man cannot revive...
the decaying self.
I needed God, but I made a mockery out of you. At the height of our delusion, we did not elude truth. There is make-believe. There is reality. There is no I AM substitute.
"...if God is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it." - Jeanette Winterson
(This feels like one of my darker writings. I don’t feel dark. I'm just reflecting and flowing. 🤷🏿♀️)
