A poem: circles

I find myself repeating everything. In and out. In and out. In and out. I’m in and out and lifeless, but I can’t give up what I see in this. I get up and have no passion. I get up and can’t even see myself. I get up and realized I’ve lost this and I can’t help but realize that I’m less than this. I’m not depressed, but I’m beside who I used to be. Rather, I’m in front. I look back and realize that the man I am is not who I was. I find the right words to say, but they’re watered down and not full of the enlightened spirit that I’ve manifested. I lead worship for the God of the universe, but I can’t help asking my self “what am I manifesting”. Spirituality doesn’t look like a concert, though it can be a spiritual experience. There’s a difference in David Bazan and Hillsong. One is anointed and one manipulates the emotions. I’m not underplaying an experience- I’m exposing what I see. Brainwashing and whitewashing are intoxicating and I can’t help but to see this all over the modern day Jesus. Are you chasing Christ or are you chasing your own fame? Do you run your church like a business, or are you so equal that you look like the church of the Bible? Are you so inclusive that you’ll find Christ in every religion? If God is the all in all and if God is the I am, then are you? Are you closed off and confined to your own system or are you a representation of Christ? Are you speaking with a spirit of fire, or are you speaking with your own self glorification? I’m hurt, I’m lonely, I’m dead, I’m confused, and it’s all because of you.

I’m tired of people speaking behind my back and spitting my name like venom. I’m not a poison, but the actions I’ve seen have been. The poison is your hypocrisy spoken from the pulpit. Your words say one thing and your actions say another. If fire purifies, than how could you ever be holy? Fire makes us uncomfortable, yet you’re so comfortable. Fire is dangerous yet inviting. The church should be like a campfire. Everyone should be invited into the community no matter what. I don’t see that. I see a separation of “us and them” and if it’s going to be that way, I’d rather be them. If Jesus really was Christ, then why would his sacrifice not be enough for everyone? Why would God, who is love, sacrifice himself in love to save us from himself who love us and wants us to know God? Confused? Me too. Why is God described as a male? I didn’t know spirits have penises. There’s so much that crosses my mind and I can’t even relieve it. Sometimes we have to let go. That’s what I’m doing. I’m writing a poem. I’m writing a letter. I’m writing. It has no intention other than expressing my heart and the frustrations of my soul. Examine yourself. Kill the ego. Kill the white Cisgender male God who is wrathful. God is all in all. Open your eyes and let bad religion fall like the shackles of addiction that you’ve created with it. Circles are holy, but don’t let your circle be closed off for growth.

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