the real subject is always you

I have no idea what’s inside me,

if I’m holding something in

or if something is holding onto me

and I’m not even sure I can tell you

what either way feels like,

since each way feels like everything

and nothing all at once,

like there are just too many facets to a gem

to know a gem is there,

but its just at that moment

where that blur

that is being too close to something to know

it is there,

begins to take shape,

and it occurs to me now

that the anonymous gem-like something

I’ve kept referring to all this time,

is actually a very specific thing,

a feeling, in fact,

that as much as I want to believe

this faceted feeling I am referring to is God,

and that if I don’t believe this,

something bad is going to happen to me,

I am even more terrified of being laughed at

for saying my wanting to believe is believing.