I think you to be a merciful god.

I hope you are no other.

I think you to be a merciful god

Because I cannot bear merciless.

I read articles about you

and your thousand faces.

People flock to my screen to tell me

About your eyes—

Always watching—

Your mouths—

Endlessly speaking—

Your words—

Only ever promising.

They crow

“it is easier than it has ever been”

Though more people reach for your hands

And less are allowed onto your palms.

They boast

“I was chosen by some 

Luck or fate

Decades of labor

Sin free life”

Though everyone is held bare to you

sloth and our childhood sins

Judged the moment we turn eighteen.

They cry

“Here is the reason god chose me”

Though your favor grants a debt

Your attention curries malice

Your smiles breed jealousy.

Still, can it be you to plant all these sanguine seeds?

Do you, merciful god, make all the pious repent the fact that they prayed?

When you took in my blood two years ago, what did you like about her

From when you dissected her like a frog,

From when nightmares weren’t enough?

I think you to be a merciful god,

Because I cannot bear merciless.

I am not the most, I know,

But I am optimistic.

I wish to believe you are benevolent,

Though I do not believe the hardest.

Some others around me whisper in their pews.

They say “this god has an algorithm”

“this god has a pattern”

“this god isn’t random”

And then, when we are out of the meeting house

“this god isn’t fair”

And I believe you are not cruel like that,

not because you have proven so,

but because I cannot bear to be denied so fundamentally.

Another faction rises to defend you each time at the pulpit

“this god rules equally”

“this god rules fairly”

“this god picks the deserving”

The church bolsters them; they have a house where others have none

(they have a house of temples’ stones)

“this god is my god”

And I know this also isn’t the truth

Because my gut tells me that it is wrong.

Because even when I turn to assure myself,

Something doesn’t settle.

I turn to what I always have—

Research and opinion—

For a fear that cannot be quelled.

These libraries are grand,

These voices are loud,

And these people are numerous.

But are you, god, truly in any of these pages?

Can you, god, be described by one of these words?

And if you can speak truthfully, god,

Are these people with your name true?

They’re powerful, god,

But they’re only powerful when they care about you.

And when I turn eighteen, god,

And you rob me of my humanity,

Will my traits make you smile or cry?

You say you like temples now, god,

Do you like chips in mine?

But will you pry them out, god,

Out of a human life?

When I turn eighteen, god,

Will you choose me too?

Or were all those years,

Those hours in the afternoon,

Those weekend mornings,

Those vacation days,

Just a waste to even try?

Will you speak to me, god,

For two years before you quit?

Will you think of me, god,

Before you suddenly did?

I’ve consulted the archives, god.

I’ve seen your name since the 50s.

You’re like a plague, god.

The oldest that we’ve ever seen.

But in all my Bibles, god,

My sutras, my grimoire,

You’re a blessing, god.

A malady like martyrdom.

No silver, no talismans, no sigil can cast you out.

You’re powerful, you’re growing, god,

But you’re not exactly good.

You make a deal as the devil, god;

I shook your hand at birth.

And when these people learned to talk from you, god,

Did they ever speak again?

When they learned to write like you

Will they ever say again?

Can these people keep a secret

Of their remaining childhood joy?

Or will they blabber to you, god,

Like a little altar boy?

Can these people keep their value

And stop selling it for cash?

Or does money suddenly make it worthy,

Until it becomes a stash?

And those people who told me,

Time and time again,

To be absurd or be nothing,

Did you come to them as madness?

For they embraced you as a knave would,

For you wouldn’t make them a lover or friend.

Those followers knew you, god,

And they followed you regardless.

So when I know you, god,

Will you be merciful?