by Neesa Suncheuri
Before I died,
I had powers. Evil ones.
As a youth, when I was mortal,
I wanted to fly,
Bend metal,
Move things with the mere force of my mind.
So adamant was I, that
All this actually manifested.
I am a God now.
Perhaps one day,
I could even replace God Himself.
The one that has no end.
I hope not.
When I was alive on Earth,
These supernatural abilities I had caused people to
Flock to me.
I was a wealthy magician.
People apprenticed with me to
Acquire what I had.
But instead of teaching them,
I merely fucked up their minds.
To die and to rebuild…
That is the only way to understand…
I knew I was an evil sham.
What true benefit does the world derive from
Tricks?
Spells?
Desires?
Wishes coming true?
It is all selfish,
And all simply fuel for
Envy and self-inflated pride,
The sentiment of self-righteousness,
Blindness towards the plight of the weak,
And the inability to feel compassion.
I hated myself,
I wished the world would crumble beneath my feet.
Such is the only way I could have been redeemed
On my terms.
But Earth thrives,
I remain unaided.
When it was my time to die,
And the world could no longer contain me.
I rose above, was
Locked away into a constellation,
Only to be frozen
Forever in the night sky,
Now wondered at by stargazers,
The worst of whom again
Naïvely desire the powers
That destroyed me.
No one is innocent.
I am a damned God,
And am sadly able to influence Earth’s occurrences.
Do not pray to me.
Do not ask for my providence.
Do not emulate me.
I can only make your dreams come true.
Nothing more.
Neesa Suncheuri works as a mental health peer specialist at a housing agency in Queens, New York. She is the founder of a Facebook discussion group for peer specialists and other recovery enthusiasts, entitled “What is Wellness? A Mental Health Discussion Group.” Much of her creative inspiration is rooted in her now-tamed schizophrenia. She is a singer/songwriter, and performs in various venues in the city. She writes poetry, maintains a blog and is currently working on a memoir. Follow her on Twitter at @aquariumspeaks.
Dangerous things, dreams of power. and deadly in their vanity. Rarely do we mortals paint our gods as restrained, humble, and happy. Thank you, Neesa, for this poem.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Neesa gives a poem – just read and feel.
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I love this
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