Grand Canyon Writing

grand canyon reaching handI am on the edge of the burnt umber succubus. My eyes are outlining her curves,speckled with evergreen life, and I feel waves of wonder ripple through my body, like pebbles in a pond. I want a Moment. So I reach. (My shirt sleeves crumble up, exposing the pale-olive flesh that I’m stitched with.)

And grab her by her undefined natural phenomena and bring her down to my smirking face. And… INHALE! DIGEST! CONSUME! WONDER! TWITCH AND SQUIRM! CONQUER AND FLINCH!


My stomach, the enlightened nervous system, now owns her!

Mine. My snapshots. My narrative. My connection. My extension. My panorama consciousness.

Me. I CREATED IT. This entire world belongs to me. I created everything I trip and fall on; I created everything I worship and choke on.

God is a:

grand canyon

  • 5′ 8″
  • 115 lbs
  • 22 year old
  • olive toned
  • messy dark-brown hair
  • daydreaming
  • stuttering
  • emotional
  • passionate, passionate
  • GIRL

I become your God when you introduce yourself to me. It is that point where your worth and identity loosens into a vibrating line between my brown eyes and your own. And instantly, before our soft-spoken greetings are complete, I start the process of re-coloring you with my own biases and hyperbole; re-inventing you into my own creation. Re-inventing our setting into my own playground. Re-innovating our human dilemma into a platform for my own insecurities.

grand canyon godTo survive my damnation all you need to do is avoid me by all costs. I’m a great big disease, if you come to close,  you’ll catch my damnation. If you come to close then I’ll bring you to the fiery pit with me.

Listen, God is a mortal. Listen, God is a sinner. Listen, God will burn, but with sticky fingers reaching out, gripping tightly on every rough-tongued sucker who was cruel to Her.


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