Maybe in my subconscious, blood spilled made me more godly.
I beckoned and begged to hear the voice of God.
She sipped from the bottle and I secretly wish I could replace myself with the JD.
My uncle educated me on the intent of God and the misunderstanding throughout the pages of the bible.
But even a joyful man such as himself, laced in faith and dipped in melanin that would coat him for his desert....not even he spoke of gods mercy towards my community.
So deep down, he too probably believes that I chose sin over spiritually. That my flesh spoke for my soul
When it was my soul who spoke for my flesh.
Years of containment and trying to thread my idea of love back into the way, heterosexuality had been so perfectly implanted in my head.
Whereas I question myself. Is it the rebel in me that began it all?
Deep down, is this all to get back at my father? My mother? My family.
But then after hearing words of rejection from the mouths that mattered most.
Whether it was my fathers echo or simply my brothers humble opinion. The voice in my head sometimes isn't mine.
But am I blaming my psychotics for choosing to try to be with guys? Even if it was something I didn't want. Something that disgusted me beyond belief.
The thought of normalcy no longer being in my grasp and the unwavering blood love that was promised me now ripped away. Simply because.....my tongue speaks womanly.
Am I blaming my loss of voice on the fact I was silenced or I stopped talking so people wouldn't ask questions because I couldn't control whether it would be the truth or another fable I conjured in my head to fool myself ...more than others.
Maybe it wasn't that I lost my voice...or dramatically stolen from me. Maybe I just simply forgot how to speak.
I beckoned and begged to hear the voice of God.
Since the Devils came in like a hot whisper.
A distant thought. A second thought.
If he had that much power to whisper false facts into my head...or childish acts or spiteful things to think and say.
Then why is the creator choosing to not reveal himself to me?
Is God that powerful?
I see more evil than good.
People pray to God to have mercy on his people
but honestly it just feels like the Devils field day.
Do we ask for help because we simply cannot create the change ourselves or are too lazy to attempt?
Childish manners.
How's that for child's play?
