Did I Use the Wrong Fork?

Did I Use the Wrong Fork?

(“For the kingdom of God is not food and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” Romans 14:17)

Would you listen as I rip off the bandages,
would you hear the cry of torn flesh and broken cell walls,
would you be frightened at the darkest parts of me?

I spent too much time unraveling every thought, and then
hiding again behind lofty words and preemptive attempts at prayer.
I kept the rules, some of them, some of the rules I kept.
Other I dismissed as unnecessary,
some I ignored and wept at my weakness.
Once I even un-curtained my uncertainties in hopes
of help with my idiosyncrasies. I was wrong. No one likes
a loser. No one likes a maverick who cannot learn to behave.

It really is no one’s fault. And there were a few who
gathered my tears in their hands and valued them like gems.
But the ones who struck out at me because I did not fit the team
never once
saw my tears as anything but
evidence I was as weak as they thought.

What they did not know, and what I tell you now,
is that I was, is that I am, weaker than anyone ever imagined,
weaker than snow in the Sahara.

Here, let me show you what I could never show. Will you
turn away in ghastly fear. Will you imagine my face so ghostly
you would call for an exorcism to purify your own thoughts?
Did I use the wrong fork for dessert, did I leave too much on the plate?
Did you finish my second helping after I left, did you huddle with others
to determine my fate?

Because I’ve tasted the menu, the bitterness of raw onion skin faith,
I invite my friends to dine, one at a time, and let the conversation unwind
till we get to the end of our piety and rest alone in human reality.