If I memorized the holy scriptures
From Genesis 1:1 to the end of John’s Revelation
Would that be a salve to my scabbed heart?
A heart blistered from continual penitent posturing.
If I acquiesce to your religious dogma
Tethered my soul to the framework of the fearfully weak
Would that commit my spirit to the holy heavens
Or merely condemn my behavior to be a programmed automaton?
The rules, ah yes the spankin’ rules.
Laid out like the zoo for the ferocious.
A domesticated, subjugated, neutered parishioner
While my soul dies from this cleverly constructed
Freedom in captivity.
I don’t need your diagnosis of behavior.
I don’t need your treatise of my life.
I need the intangible, the incomprehensible
I need the impossible to show up and believe in me.
I need the illogical to make sense of my life.
I need the incandescent shine of a honest smile.
I need acceptance of my dirty hands.
I need to feel safe to be vulnerable.
I need to be loved