there are layers in my mind

light

and

dark

an endless spiral staircase of

light

and

dark

passing truth and fiction

on shelves

get to know me?

unlikely

but you can try

go down

layer by layer

light

and

dark

peeling away

but you can't go back

to the light

once you've been

through

light

and

dark

don't listen

to the siren song

the top three dimensions

are lies

woven myths

light

and 

dark

never forget

don't look for the truth

look for the

light

and

dark

you'll always find what you're not looking for

never threaten my love

never look for

my dark side

you don't want to find it

light

and

dark

you won't find it

in the maze

light

and

dark

balance

don't venture into my mind

light

and

dark

there are layers in my mind

light

and

dark

and

light

and

dark

and

light

and

dark

With a flourish of the wrist, he lifted the ornate calligraphy brush from her naked flesh. He knew she'd approve were her eyes not shut. All their last night's intimacy inked out on her lithe, body. The passionate, dark, and forbidden acts. He'd written only where clothes would cover so she could keep the words longer.

Once they were dressed, her makeup immaculate, he gave a final kiss. They wouldn't meet again. He left into cold blue light of pre-dawn, sending a voice message to his business partner.

"The body is prepped for the funeral today. She's in fridge four."

"Jesus Christ, again?" I whispered between my legs. No toilet paper in this place. Everything is so wrong. I took a deep breath and just let the piss drip until I was dry as possible. We aren't going to have sex tonight, probably.   

I grabbed the door handle and took a deep breath: This could be great if I want it to be. I am in control.  

I waddled back to the table and smiled at Him. He looked down at my hands and then my crotch, crap. Whatever, at least it can be something we can talk about. I picked Ethiopian food, but later I remembered that Africa is a touchy subject for Him. This anxious thought, on top of God reading my thoughts, made conversation a bit tricky.   

But, as soon as I sat down our waiter came by. God decided to take the wheel.

"OK, we'll have the 'Atkilt What,' the 'Ah-Waze Tibs' the 'Keeeet Alisha,' and the 'Sahhhero Furfur.' Oh and an extra side of greens and curried lentils for the lady." Damn, I usually hate it when someone orders for me, but He knew everything that I wanted. He pronounced some of the dishes wrong, but there was so much confidence in His voice. That's what all the white guys I bring here do. 

The waiter thanked God and walked off. God sat straight up and smiled: "I like how you did your hair today." 

I was caught off guard, the conversation is usually always about Him and He has never explicitly complimented me. Maybe I mistook Him, but before I gave my reply– 

"I always wear mine natural, I shampoo it every other day and condition it every day."

"Oh wow, that's probably why it's so shiny, almost like a halo." I brushed His ego.  

I took a discreet sigh through my nose; I am in control. I will make this date go well. 

"So, what's your ethnicity?" I asked, regretting the question as it came out of my mouth. Why am I so damn cringy? 

"It's actually kind of a mystery, I was adopted, a couple of thousands of times. I think I'm part Israeli, though" God replied

"Nice, I'm half–" 

"That's OK. I already know." He interrupted, again. He changed the subject as He felt my frustration."So I've been meaning to tell you that I'm thinking about leaving the company." 

"Seriously? You're leaving Buzzfeed?" I said, pretended to be shocked, everyone was quitting recently. 

"Yeah, I feel like I'm needed somewhere else. You know, all my life I wanted to join Peace Corps. I really feel like I need to help those who have so much less." said God, righteously.  

God has been saying this for years; it was actually one of the first things He said to me. He won't do it, I know it. Buzzfeed employees always say this when their articles start to "EPIC FAIL," but once there's a new Trump meme to write about, it's not mentioned again for a while. 

"I will do. I will do it." He said smiling on the second one. 

I just smiled back at him, knowing what I know. "I believe in you," I lied.  

I saw the smile fade from His face, but he quickly changed the subject. "Did you see what happened last night?" He asked, already knowing my answer. 

"Yeah, you mean the shooting in Pennsylvania?" I said in half excitement (I'm always looking to talk about current events,) and then in a half accusatory tone when I remembered that he is God.  

He looked to the side, knowing my emotions. "It's such a shame, those people. I mean, those kids. Just died so senselessly." God was one of those guys who was always half aware of the news. It was as though he only caught a few minutes of CNN every other night and was only half attentive.

Before I could catch myself I pressed him "You say that as though it was bound to happen." I was more aggressive than I intended, but I was growing frustrated with Him. 

He was caught off guard, or He was pretending to be. "I mean, with the lax gun laws and all. What do you expect? It seems it happens every Monday in America. It's only a matter of time." He explained Himself. 

I struggled for a change of subject. I didn't want to get political just yet. Even though I agreed with him, I wondered what He meant by "only a matter of time." 

But just as I was about to bring up "a matter of time," the food arrived. 

I almost expected Him to pray before He ate, but I immediately realized how stupid that was. He can't be that self-absorbed.  

The sound of chewing filled the already thick and awkward atmosphere. I broke it with my full mouth, "What shows do you watch on Netflix?" 

He took a minute, chewing his food, and replied "I don't watch too much Netflix, you know? Because of the whole omnipotence thing? I always know the ending and it ruins the suspense. But I like the sitcoms, you always know how it's going to end up: Friends, New Girl, How I Met Your Mother. I feel like those stupid shows are how life is really supposed to be." 

"Me too!" I proclaimed, with a little too much excitement. But that was something I felt to my core. I smiled as I ate, relieved that we connected on some spiritual-T.V. level. 

But dinner was over just as the conversation wasn't so small anymore, as it always happens.  

"Split the bill, right?" I suggested, trying hard to be casual about it. 

"Nope, I got this one." He gave me a smile, but now I was nervous about what was going to happen next.  

We left the tiny restaurant and headed towards his Prius. I noticed He was old-fashioned. I wondered how deep that ran. As I got into the car, He said to me while carefully avoiding eye contact: "Are we headed to my place or your place?"  

I waited a minute as I remembered the piss incident, and said "My place." But He must've known my answer, as he was already going to my apartment before I even said anything

"So, I had a good time tonight. We should make plans for a third one. I'm feeling good about this." He forced out. I was relieved that He was nervous too. 

I wasn't sure what to say, I don't think I felt that same way about Him. But it was one of those "damned if you do, damned if you don't" things. I would either have to make it awkward now in private or, later at work in public. Of course, I choose later.  

"Yeah, definitely. I'll text you in the morning." I lied, maybe. 

But God smiled back, as though He knew better. What a creep. 

There is a girl that sits on her bed

Tearing out piece's of hair from her head.

And every night before she sleeps

She sews her eyes shut to cease the steady weep.

The weep of emotions that form into tears

The weep of emotions that have followed her for years,

And in each of those years is 365 days

It a wonder she has hair that remains.

The girls name is China and she is a doll

Found so broken and torn she could never be sold.

So they took her into their home

Painted of the cracks and gave her hair a comb.

Little did they know the cracks would reform

Because hidden under the surface is a thunderstorm

And those thunderstorms always find a way,

Of seeping out and ruining each day.

The family just kept fixing her up

As if she'll be okay when they cover it up.

They painted on a mask and gave her a new dress

But those feelings could not be supressed.

Supressed those feelings could not be for they were to deep and dark,

For the family before this one had left quite a mark.

It remains on her porcelain heart leaking a great darkness

All because some people can be cold and heartless.

It was never her fault she felt this way,

All she wanted was for someone to understand her pain.

Yet she stills sits on her bed tearing out her hair

All because her past is too much to bear.

We are all dolls being played with by people,

Some are made of porcelain, others made of metal.

We break sometimes and that's okay,

We just need people to recognise we feel this way.