i am being persecuted for having learned how to think in a critical way

I resent the way I am.
I no longer like myself.
I no longer like the person I turned out to be.
I take no pleasure in what I am doing simply because it entails me to think.
It demands that I know how to infer meaning from situations.
And I am being persecuted for knowing how to do it.

How I wish I was born without my senses.
Take away my sight that I should never get to read again.
Take away my hearing that I might not be able to listen to anything again.
Take away my ability to speak that I might not say what I have in mind.
…and maybe then he’ll love me more.

Let me be “unthinking.”
Let me be something different.
Mold me into a person that you will love deeply.
I feel so unhealthy writing this.
I feel so sad about myself.
I want to abandon myself.
Is it possible?


In The Storm

This morning the sky has not lighted.
All is dark but for the sudden light
of stray lightening.
Lowering clouds seem to dampen all
save for the rumbling of thunder,
as if the sky grew hungry
and looked down drooling on the
world below.

I wait as the lights go out, and watch
the sky attack the ground,
hiding myself behind fragile glass.
As clouds swirl and move,
blanketing the earth in a swirling
layer of black and gray.
I wonder if you too are seeing
a dark and wet assault from the sky,
one that sakes the ground
WE once stood on TOGETHER.