this is love
not that i first loved Him
whispering fuck yous and flashing middle fingers in shadowed hidden staircases
where Christians can not hear
where kids can not hear
where spouses and parents and priests can not hear
this is love
not that i first loved Him
gallivanting my righteousness around on red, white and blue ribbons
hanging around my neck like a heavy medal
where people can see i am doing things right
where people can see i am keeping the peace
where people can look for an exemplary model of all that is perfect
this is love
not that i first loved Him
shoving my anger into the hidden cavities
letting it fester and boil
where it can not be seen or heard
where it can not be dealt with or acknowledged or admitted
where it can mix into deadly concoctions that eat away at my heart
this is love
not that i first loved Him
reading my Bible in frustration
begging Him for the next conviction to conquer
where i can feel good about myself
where i can hang my hat of proof
where i can check another to-do off an ever-expanding list
this is love
not that i first loved Him
fearing to draw attention to myself
dreading the pretentious name of self-obsessed, wrapping my body lavishly in low self-esteem
where no one could see beauty
where no one would care to look
where no one would notice
this is love
not that i first loved Him
resisting the urge to be an artist
silencing inner pleas of desperation
where i can fit in with status-quo
where i can use my brain instead of my heart
where i can cling to a formula that worked for someone else
this is love
not that i first loved Him
picking apart the holies and the not so holies
using my mind like a microscope to pinpoint other’s hidden flaws
where they are less so i can feel more
where they need a savior
where i am that savior
this is love
not that i first loved Him
but that He
FIRST
loved me.
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