“Multitudes” by Somto Ihezue

I want to be many things. Beautiful like a hymn, dire like worship. I want to be a sermon—with verses read aloud. I want to be scripture—and let my name be truth.

I want to be communion, my body hungered for, without weighing, without measuring. I want to be God. Mighty. Worthy as I am… that I am.

I want to be a boy in a choir. I want to be a chorus. I want to love. And let my love be holy. And let my love be righteous rage.

But, today, I am a blood-stained cassock. I am prayers unheard. I am bullets scattered on hallowed grounds.