Face crime



“There is no dichotomy between man and God’s image. Whoever tortures a human being, whoever abuses a human being, whoever outrages a human being, abuses God’s image.”  Oscar Romero

It came down to me on the back of her green wings.  Fluttering about before my eyes, disguised as an idea.  There are lines in the sand, as far as my eyes can see.  My search for answers only yields more questions.  My search for my mother or my father, only brings lost memories…dreams, I’m not sure which.  As I touch what was once at the bottom of that well, I still do not have the ability to know if it was ever real.  I no longer have a voice.  It is not necessary here.  I am what you think I am and that is not always so good.  My face must remain stoic and unexpressive.  You fear me because I say hello and I can only ask why.  I am being weighed down.  So much that I can barely stand.  The weight of gravity is a torture I can hardly feel any longer.  I must not show you what is hiding deep inside.  I wear a mask to protect myself.  As I shake off the broken glass of yesterdays life, I cannot touch what I once had.  I can no longer remember it, but it floats above me, a gaseous haze of confusion and separatism.  Oh, what Am I?  Can you please at least answer that?  There is a force weighing me down.  It is a force that causes us to continue drawing the lines that divide us from what we can be…please help me understand the motives for division, competition and the worship of death.  Please help me understand.  I look to god for answers but that never quite worked for me.  I looked everywhere but I could never quite focus on anything for too long.  It was the illusions that always seemed so solid.  Can I at least have an explanation for that.  Playing Monopoly with my mother and father overtakes my mind.  It seemed all so unreal even then.  Playing a game of a game.  The paper money and the ignorance of the pain of those constantly stepped on.  And this is what motivates people, is normal.  Normality here is never questioning the psychopathic view of the rulers of the world.  It is all upside down now.   It is all a game.  A more proper realization I haven’t quite had in such a while.  She still floats above me.  Always within reach, always carrying hope. I reach out and touch her wings covered in star-dust which I swipe across my face and experience the aeons of life we all have lived.  Looking to the stars reflecting in your eyes, as you gave me new life.  I will become the shepherd of a new religion.  This is what you told me.  The ghost forwarding a new idea, a new answer, or a new illusion.  The stars tell me it will only be based on one idea and spread forth with a billion different others.  One idea, non-judgement.  It sounds much like another religion we all know.  This one is different.  This time it’s different because it is all of ours.  Everyone contributes.  Words come pouring through me as I lay upon this mountain top.  We all begin to write our future.  We truly have no other choice.  The stars singing all that I can ever know.  The dawn of a new life begins for us all.   She flies before my eyes and all of this is communicated to me as I must remain without questions.  But what flies before me even now seems so unreal.  A mass illusion that I precipitate.  Your wings still aflutter as I watch those eyes, filled with the life I am no longer capable of.  Perhaps you can save me from drowning here.  I see your heartbeat, my eyes reflecting the green coating I see you in.  Remember the night we danced, our energies flowing into and outside of each other.  I couldn’t touch you because I did not know how.  Remember when I reached for you.  A piece of paper you were then drifting along with my suspended breath.  You were always real to me somewhere.  Dancing with you in my dreams, dreams which I could never, ever touch.  I was healed by the twinkle in your eyes.  Your hand on my knee brought me back to all that we ever were.  There is a quake below the hill.  They are following me now, trying to destroy all that is in my path.  The bombs begin falling.  They hold back nothing.  I believe it is because I have it all figured out.  Volcanos erupt beneath my feet and the stars are raining down, lighting my path.  A new dawn arises in the wake of the last ones destruction.  I reach for the stars as there is no where else to turn.  This will not be easy as their tentacles are clinging to me, but there is no where for them to hold onto as I convulse in laughter at the abusrdity of this supposed enemy.  Their faces statuesque and frozen in a period of time that can no longer and probably never truly existed.  Convinced of the rightness of their destruction, the rightness of their absolute certainty.  I dance down the lava and the destruction that is following not far behind with a smile on my face and a wink in my eye. They do not appreciate being mocked.  Especially if you can do it tax-free


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