My friend told me I'm a human being
not a perfect being
not a robot being
not a god being
I don't need to be perfect
I don't need to be perfect 
for her or myself or anyone else
Then who am I being perfect for?
What am I proving?
What is it worth?
She believes in God and Jesus
She told me Jesus brought freedom
She asked me if I have freedom
I told her I don't have anything
But that's not true,
she said
You have so many
chains,
she said

Rest your back against a wooden fence
in a field illuminated only by the
constellations hovering above
Let the moonlight dance upon your
eyelids
and bathe away all the mistakes you made today,
every wrong turn,
every scrape against the skin,
every drop of blood spilt
Just sit and take a breath
Pretend the dirt on your face 
has been wholly wiped clean
Pretend your torn up soul is still 
right where you left it
Just let yourself vanish against the fog
Just rest

A painting of a girl 
with bloodshot eyes and golden veins
who knows the meaning of survival 
better than she knows her own name,
who can forge entire galaxies out of
the aftermath of 
war

A painting of a girl 
who will never fit the earthly skin
she was given
because she has no desire to be queen,
she wants to be a
god