(no subject)
The dirt gave way under my bare feet, and I sank to my knees on top of the mountain, at that deserted overlook, and stared out at the valley below me.
Elevation: 3,570 feet.
I breathed deep. The air was thin, crisp. It was clean and unfamiliar. The dirt was cold under my palms as I leaned down, stared down the steep drop, spiked with whithered trees, leafless, the illusion of death strong as winter approaches, but I know under the graying bark there is green. Under the graying bark, there is green and it is alive and waiting and breathing, like me, but is it gasping, like me? Is it crying out, like me?
whisper words of wisdom let it be
I felt my shoulders begin to shake first, and I sunk lower into the earth, into the peat and dried leaves, and I inhaled as deep as I could again, inhaled and closed my eyes, hoping for composure, hoping for the strength to pick myself up off the ground and walk back to my car.
It came hard, suddenly, forcefully, knocking the thin breaths out of my body. The smell of his skin, the taste of the wafer in my mouth, the feeling of a lie, the way the wood pressed into my knees as I knelt before that twisted Jesus, the voices - salvation we are salvation - the teal of the carpet, hands clasped together, squeezing tight - i'm here i'm right here don't be afraid that's jesus that fear is jesus - the feeling of nothing, the desperation of wanting everything, the nagging guilt, the insufferable silences, the choir echoing into the vast space [could it save a wretch like me], a frowning stained glass apostle, the thrill of fantasizing about him while sitting in the pews, while kneeling next him - that's okay she's unsaved a nonbeliever tsk - pressing my wrists together, hiding my tattoo, wondering if this feeling is peace or nausea.
mother mary comes to me speaking words of wisdom let it be
Liars, sinners, fakers, takers. Angels, mothers, saints, givers. And me. Standing there, amongst them, unsure, standing next to him, unsure, straining to hear what they heard, straining to feel, to hold my hands up, to receive the word, to hear the call, to submit to the plan.
But there was nothing.
I'm back on top of the mountain, kneeling in the dirt, the wind gentle on my face. I heard nothing at first,and then the wind whispered like he did, like a lover instead of just a boyfriend, flush against my ear, violating my space, knowing I wouldn't protest. I lifted my eyes from the dirt, from the all the browns, the leaves and the fearless beetle by my pinky, and I looked towards the white sky, the sun bright and unwavering as it painted the bumpy horizon orange.
God is a crutch. Jesus is for stupid people. Religion isn't real.
Then how could I want it so bad?
and in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
I was above the world, knelt at its edge, and I was alone. Just me. Me and you, I thought. You have to hear me now. You're going to hear me now. There's nothing here to muffle me, nothing here to fight with, nobody else asking for help. Just me.
I screamed.
Can you hear me now?
I listened for the answer. A smattering of startled birds lifted from the gnarled trees down the slope, black against the white for only a second before they were gone, stark and jagged. There was nothing. I felt nothing by the damp soil finding its way under my fingernails, under my skin, and into my veins.
Poor little lost girl. There was a rustling of leaves nearby. I turned my head, looking for the movement, but there was nothing. I was unable to squint at the sky any more, and the tears were steady. I was begging now, could hear my heart screaming against the inside of my chest, and I was begging for the feeling of finality, for the feeling of ease and peace.
There was a moment when the wind was strong, felt like it was coming straight down onto me, pushing my shoulders closer to the ground. Then the pressure was gone, easing off my back, and I swear I swear I swear there was a hand. I swear there was a hand and there were eyes, boring into my back. I turned, startled, scared, thought I was the only one on top of that mountain, embarrassed - had they heard me begging - but there was nobody there.
Poor little lost girl, on top of a mountain, looking for salvation in all the wrong places, in all the wrong people.
Days later, I lifted myself up but didn't brush the dirt from my knees. Let them see. Let them know. Let them know that I fell to my knees. Let them know I turned my head to the sky and let the sun wash out my face. Let them know that I tried. Let them know that I'll keep trying. Let them know that I will not be confined. Let them know that I will find it. Let them know that some day, I'll have a beautiful life.
there is still a light that shines on me shine until tomorrow let it be...
Elevation: 3,570 feet.
I breathed deep. The air was thin, crisp. It was clean and unfamiliar. The dirt was cold under my palms as I leaned down, stared down the steep drop, spiked with whithered trees, leafless, the illusion of death strong as winter approaches, but I know under the graying bark there is green. Under the graying bark, there is green and it is alive and waiting and breathing, like me, but is it gasping, like me? Is it crying out, like me?
whisper words of wisdom let it be
I felt my shoulders begin to shake first, and I sunk lower into the earth, into the peat and dried leaves, and I inhaled as deep as I could again, inhaled and closed my eyes, hoping for composure, hoping for the strength to pick myself up off the ground and walk back to my car.
It came hard, suddenly, forcefully, knocking the thin breaths out of my body. The smell of his skin, the taste of the wafer in my mouth, the feeling of a lie, the way the wood pressed into my knees as I knelt before that twisted Jesus, the voices - salvation we are salvation - the teal of the carpet, hands clasped together, squeezing tight - i'm here i'm right here don't be afraid that's jesus that fear is jesus - the feeling of nothing, the desperation of wanting everything, the nagging guilt, the insufferable silences, the choir echoing into the vast space [could it save a wretch like me], a frowning stained glass apostle, the thrill of fantasizing about him while sitting in the pews, while kneeling next him - that's okay she's unsaved a nonbeliever tsk - pressing my wrists together, hiding my tattoo, wondering if this feeling is peace or nausea.
mother mary comes to me speaking words of wisdom let it be
Liars, sinners, fakers, takers. Angels, mothers, saints, givers. And me. Standing there, amongst them, unsure, standing next to him, unsure, straining to hear what they heard, straining to feel, to hold my hands up, to receive the word, to hear the call, to submit to the plan.
But there was nothing.
I'm back on top of the mountain, kneeling in the dirt, the wind gentle on my face. I heard nothing at first,and then the wind whispered like he did, like a lover instead of just a boyfriend, flush against my ear, violating my space, knowing I wouldn't protest. I lifted my eyes from the dirt, from the all the browns, the leaves and the fearless beetle by my pinky, and I looked towards the white sky, the sun bright and unwavering as it painted the bumpy horizon orange.
God is a crutch. Jesus is for stupid people. Religion isn't real.
Then how could I want it so bad?
and in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
I was above the world, knelt at its edge, and I was alone. Just me. Me and you, I thought. You have to hear me now. You're going to hear me now. There's nothing here to muffle me, nothing here to fight with, nobody else asking for help. Just me.
I screamed.
Can you hear me now?
I listened for the answer. A smattering of startled birds lifted from the gnarled trees down the slope, black against the white for only a second before they were gone, stark and jagged. There was nothing. I felt nothing by the damp soil finding its way under my fingernails, under my skin, and into my veins.
Poor little lost girl. There was a rustling of leaves nearby. I turned my head, looking for the movement, but there was nothing. I was unable to squint at the sky any more, and the tears were steady. I was begging now, could hear my heart screaming against the inside of my chest, and I was begging for the feeling of finality, for the feeling of ease and peace.
There was a moment when the wind was strong, felt like it was coming straight down onto me, pushing my shoulders closer to the ground. Then the pressure was gone, easing off my back, and I swear I swear I swear there was a hand. I swear there was a hand and there were eyes, boring into my back. I turned, startled, scared, thought I was the only one on top of that mountain, embarrassed - had they heard me begging - but there was nobody there.
Poor little lost girl, on top of a mountain, looking for salvation in all the wrong places, in all the wrong people.
Days later, I lifted myself up but didn't brush the dirt from my knees. Let them see. Let them know. Let them know that I fell to my knees. Let them know I turned my head to the sky and let the sun wash out my face. Let them know that I tried. Let them know that I'll keep trying. Let them know that I will not be confined. Let them know that I will find it. Let them know that some day, I'll have a beautiful life.
there is still a light that shines on me shine until tomorrow let it be...