Sometimes I wonder, do you even see or care,
Or even try to understand this crushing despair.
Sometimes I wonder, how you can stand so high,
And not wipe away the tears, we left behind cry.
I wonder how you can be so goddamn flippant,
So goddamn above it all, telling us only to repent,
As if the fear we feel, and who we are, is a mark of sin,
And that we must be ground under to begin again.
The Holy Ones, like you, worship cruelty and violence,
Or uncaring, dismissive, look away in unnoticing silence.
The Holy Ones, gave a devil a key to fire and power
For promises of a return to a more beguiling hour.
Look at me, look me in the eye, see me as I am, as I shake,
Don’t call me a sinner, or cast me aside as some fucking mistake.
Look at me, put away your faith and surety of purity and grace.
Look at me, see me as one hounded and afraid, in a hallowed place.