God is a Rock in the Bottom of a Pond

God is a rock in the bottom of a pond
I am as shallow as they come,
I’ve heard stories about bodies of water that can reach deep into your soul
and now I can’t stop dreaming about drowning,
it was you who always said you'd rather be burned alive.

I wish you could’ve stayed, just for a little while
because I’ve been skipping stones across water,
watching as they sink
praying for tranquil seas to keep them afloat
but no matter how I plead
I cannot stop the storm;
the ocean a mistress
waxing and waning with the moon,
the star-crossed lovers from eons ago
do not depend on divinity,
nor do they worry about the pebbles that are swallowed by the sea.

Something is brewing inside of me.

My fingernails scratching the inner seams of solitude
clutching on to the final fabrication that at least I am myself again
as if the person I’d been looking for somehow finally found its way home.

I keep searching for answers to questions I do not yet know how to formulate
but the desire to turn into delusional selflessness
will suffocate all things holy.
Once more I watch, as the pious gather round
hungry for another sacrifice,
blinded by their promise of paradise
the message loses all meaning.

I envision a love that spans across continents,
a love that isn't scared of the deep end,
a love that burned so bright and so proud I can still feel its heat;
it takes a miracle to part the Red Sea
and finally, feel the gravel beneath your feet,
to find that the other half you've been missing
is but a disconnect between the soul and the body it holds.

I never asked for resurrection;
when you are gone, you are gone forever,
except when I exchange control for visions of the past –
I did go looking for an afterlife
but the water is still too shallow for me to swim,
so, with outstretched arms I am standing by the shoreline
waiting for rain and thunder
and when the flood finally comes
I hope the pebbles in my pockets
won’t pull me under.