A poem about a collage of experiences from Christian teenagers battling the temptations of living in a fallen world.
Feeling torn in two,
playing Pangea
with Lily Pads:
the kingdom of God
vs the mud of the flood
under my feet.
One thing I look forward to—
dangling my toes
over a lazy lake
sitting on a deck
next to Jesus
whose toes
swing a li’l lower than mine
parting waters below,
bending the fabric of space-time.
Too much mercury in my blood.
A doctor once told me
the last time he’s seen
heavy metals like those
was at a rock concert
in a psych ward.
What am I working toward?
There’s a button in my brain
that gets stuck
when I think of dark stuff
like suicide and porn.
You’d think I’d know better.
I’m a Christian re-born
with my own personal superhero
whose superpower is flying into my brain,
freeing neurons of hope
to keep me from going insane.
Darkness is raw inertia.
A Black Hole of seduction.
BuzzBallz before class.
Flavored vapes in the bathroom,
self-medicating with nic and grass.
Dancing girls with Daddy issues in my bed.
And intrusive thoughts like percussions in my head
that used to scare me.
I’ve lived with them for so long
I’m confusing love for hate,
freedom for sticky-buttons,
and being on time for chronically being late.
The best way to get unstuck
is to learn to hate,
punch, push and shove,
the faces in the dark
I’ve grown to love.