Seas within the sky cascade and ripple while they have my attention.
Clearest reflections born between the clashing forces.
My dirt colored complexion horrifies me. Little brown eyes to match, demonic red veins swim
throughout my eyes white sap and a gray wisp of air escapes my body. I am a living corpse.
Wallowing in sadness my reflection is eclipsed by the one winged angels swimming throughout
the skies sea.
They desperately flap their wings and firmly clench their partner’s hand as they attempt to tread
water.
If just one of them were to suddenly give up or die then the other would have to suffer.
To my little brown eyes it is the greatest symbol of dependence, love and trust.
I however am unable to participate in such affairs, my lack of wings and the golden gates remind
me of the distance between me and them.
My eyes glistening with affection after being blessed to see such sights, yet I know better.
It is easier to murder each emotion that resides within me than allow my heart to be broken
because I believed I could be treading the water just like them.
At least I am not alone though, there are plenty of other dirt colored people that border the
golden gates.
Brown pigment smeared on the fluffy white clouds, our faces are too heinous to even withstand.
We taint the purity of this place with our pure existence, no wonder they don’t let us in.
If we can’t even keep the clouds clean how could they expect us to uphold peace, sanitary
conditions and the beauty that remains inside.
We deserve it, there’s no doubt in my mind.
God has chosen them to dwell within his home and not us, so there must be something we don’t
know.
My eyes sprint within its socket to see if there may be someone like us inside.
Faster and Faster…the pace increases and people start becoming blurred images. No one like
us exists inside these gates.
The pace decreases and I happen to be reminded of someone’s existence.
Only white bodies, white robes and white wings exist within these gates.
White like all the rest, yet her blue hair separates her. It exists purely to tease me about my
deepest desire.
The desire to flap my one wing whilst holding her hand so that her and I could tread water like
the rest.
Dreams crushed however as you and your friends fly over hailing spit over the dirt colored
people and I.
My nappy head wet, feeling uncomfortable as the thick spit slides off my head and onto my face.
Saliva beginning to intertwine with my tears romantically, as if they must prove their love for one
another.
Why God? Why can’t you open the gates for us?
Why must you sit back and watch our suffering?
Does it make you happy?
Jedidiah Brown is a UCI student. Find more of his work here.