The Jesus Fallacy

Jesus I stand opposite You

By You, near You, a hope to be You

Staring into your eyes which for some reason are still blue

Looking up to your haloed head which for some reason is still crowned by silky blonde hair

Jesus I stand opposite You

But my eyes are blind to You

All I see are the distortions of You

Jesus I stand opposite You, staring at your white hands outstretched to me

That’s how they painted them, always outstretched

I stare hard at those white fingers promising me Salvation

Extrication redemption liberation emancipation for all that I am and could be

Jesus I stand opposite You But I’m afraid of it

I’m afraid of You

And all that You promise I could do

For you see, Sweet Jesus, my mind is a maze of impossibilities

I don’t understand myself enough to trust myself

A piss painting, a collection of mud footprints all over my canvas

Sweet Jesus, this I understand

But you see, You I cannot understand

Jesus I stand opposite You

But I don’t understand You

Jesus Sweet Jesus your image scares me

You say You Love me and you’re my light

That warm refuge I can come to when all around me is coloured

With despair, repair my errs when all I dare lays me bare

And destitute, and scarred, a flailing body in a dead field

 I turn to You and You look…cold

No. Fiery hot. Whispering to me in a strange tongue

Your lips hiss threats of hell, an eternity of flames burning my hairs, my skin…

Leaving me to the mercies of an evil beast…as punishment…for my sins

A sentence of eternal damnation as punishment  

For the child You loved so much You bled for, was whipped for

Spat upon for, took nails in Your palms for, flesh torn apart for

Then died for…

Jesus, Sweet Jesus, I stand opposite You

But I don’t understand You

I don’t understand Your Love

Maybe I…maybe I got You all wrong

Maybe They painted You wrong

Maybe I was told the wrong tales growing up

Given the wrong interpretations, mixed with fabrications

To suit the intentions of people so selfish they would warp a child’s mind

Till that child becomes an adult whose thoughts aren’t really her thoughts ‘cos those thoughts are the thoughts of someone else who wants those thoughts to control her

Break her

Confuse her

Then kill her

Jesus Sweet Jesus, I stand opposite You

By You, near You, a hope to be You

But I don’t see You.