Sometimes, My gOd Is Death
It's Either That or They Don't Exist
My gOd doesn't care about the color of my skin or how many days its been since I've washed it. My gOd doesn't care if I capitalize their name, and yes, their preferred pronoun is "they". My gOd is more progressive than your favorite politician and I wish that statement held more weight. I have to pray for my gOd to leave, not to stay. I pray for space instead of signs. My gOd does not flood worlds, only countries and states. I don't presume them to be fair and they don't expect to delude me into thinking otherwise.
They don't touch my hair without permission, they don't pressure me into having children, and in concerns to what they want to do with me: the only time I'm asking for it is when I am literally, verbally, explicitly asking for it, and even then my gOd shows self-restraint.
I don't love my gOd, but that is not a prerequisite or a requirement whose absence warrants punishment. My gOd is less equality, more equity, and much entropy; more empathy, less sympathy; more "here's this one friendly thing" and less "we can't talk unless you're friends with me". I don't love my gOd, but that's about as important as either of our sexual orientations are to people we're not having sex with.
Sometimes, my gOd is life: I often toss the "f" aside. Sometimes, my god is death: it's either that or they don't exist.
About the Creator
Ricky R.R.
Depressive realist and author of A Spoonful of Sadness, Ricky devotes most of his brain-space to his polyamorous relationships, personal fitness, and ability to find connections in the dark. Happiness to him is compersion and patience.
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