Don’t call me divinity

Lover, darling,
you are too kind,


Your character is the stuff of dreams
but I am not,
so how could I dare
to sit on the pedestal you eagerly offer me,
so that I can act lofty
— be above the sinners —
when I am just like them?

I am not your goddess.

I am not always virtuous.

My love is not infinite
and my patience is severely limited.

While I take pains to not preach what perfection I cannot obtain,
you have mistaken my critical mind
and humility
for kindness and vulnerability.

I am not kind,
and everyone is vulnerable, should you just dig below the surface.

So don’t call me your inspiration
or your divinity
for I am corruptible — a human
more respectable than Perfection
more admirable than Talent
more precious because of my struggles
so don’t love me as a goddess,
but love me for my brokenness,
for my anxieties and failures,
ambitions and achievements,

love me for the Human that I am

because I’ll never be your deity.


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