Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry

Who Shall I Be?

Lies, more lies
everything I say is a fucking lie, I wouldn’t now the
truth if it bit me on the ass
I say there’s no god or I don’t believe—I don’t know
I don’t think I do, I don’t know
I said this aloud, response, with kindly listening
just say:
godthatIdon’tbelievein please help me
I can’t get away from deity no matter my
insistent childish incantations to the contrary
I don’t know if it matters
if I believe in deity or not
but if there is a god
it don’t care either, knowing in its omnipotence
what’s the battle then?
why this angry insistence
that deity doesn’t exist, its manmade wholesale
religiosity at its worst
I used to pray, my favorite prayer began
modeh anee lefanecha, I offer thanks to you
learned it when I was 10 or 11
used to say it with conviction
until anger and pent-up hate fucks
with my serenity
I have no peace, granted
so today I said, godwhateveryouare please help me
to lessen this battle raging
to stop the infernal questioning
and look for a tiny, tiny space where solace reigns…
lest this day be wasted in battle cries
issuing from a desperate heart


One thought on “Who Shall I Be?

  1. We tell ourselves the lies that were passed down to us. We question the lies that we ourselves fabricate to soften the blow of reality. But we cannot lie to ourselves that we are not lying. We must continue to question and pray to any who will listen. For surely, beneath all the lies we will find that spec of truth.


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