visions

blessed

[a/n: MAJOR trigger warning. this is fucking dark. and true. laugh at me once and you're fucking dead. capiece?]

last night i cursed god,
i called him a fucking dickweed
for all of the pain
he'd put me through.

i promised that when
i died, i would confront him
with a laugh in the face
and a few choice words.

last night as i hung there,
blood intermingling with tears
(they taste suspiciously the same)
i reminded myself one last time:
there is no god.
as in, there is no god
that my best friend preaches at me,
the god of acceptance,
the god of love,
the god of happiness.
he can't be real, nay, nay he can't.

why? you fucking preach your
fucking sexuality at me every fucking
second of every fucking day and i'm
fucking sick of it.

if there is a god, a god at all,
he can't be the
warm-fuzzy-love-hope-faith dude.
he's got to be some kind of asshole
who's willing to fuck up any life
that is not perfect.

like me.

he's your homophobia, your injustice,
your crutch for you hatred and your
platform for lies. your motherfucking
religion and it ends in the dustbin,
confused and smeared with warm blood.

satan would be a
liable alternative to this
humanoid paradise that is
hell.

so i thought, as i pressed the blade
to my skin for one last time.

first cut
for homophobic injustice and lack of love
second cut
for the world fucking me over

i readied my blade for a third; all but prepared to
go across my wrist and, once and for all,
die.

shaking, though,
i saw sense.
i saw light.
i swear to you i did.
i put the scissors down
(yes, i cut myself with
a pair of scissors.
the ones with
purple handles.
problem, asshole?)
and turned off my light,
wiped the blood off my arm
and sighed.

still shaking, i started to check my
phone, reaching for the
people who i knew hadn't texted
me because they didn't know and
they didn't love.

i was expecting a nice little keypad locked screen
with my phone background and the time,
displayed as crisply as a fresh scar.

but, no.
one new text message,
from the guy i call my love.

he told me i was beautiful.
he told me he loved me.
he told me he'd never object to any part of me.

and i sobbed.
because he'd done it all unprompted.
he didn't know
that i was trying to kill myself.
he didn't know
that i was at the end of my line.
he just
loved
me
and wanted to let me know.

why he did that at exactly the right moment,
i'll never know.
but for one split second,
i saw god.
the real god.
not your fucking religious bastard,
but the real loving god.
and i saw that he'd sent me an angel.
and then i understood.

thank you, my angel,
for saving me.