You were not The One,
could not be The One,
but still, I loved you in my way
for giving me what he would not.
He walked on water
but you walked on dirt
and let your flesh love mine
while he swore longing glances were enough
and gave everything to everyone
but the one who gave everything for him,
left me bleeding in my bed
saying I should be grateful
he even looked at me,
taunting the angels that sang my songs,
telling me I knew nothing
when really
the secrets of the universe
were scribbled on my cells.
That is how I knew what he was
what you were
what I was.
My angels whispered
I was the one
destined to fall at his feet
and kiss them.
The stories got it wrong, Judas.
When the pharisees mocked me,
he laughed with them.
When they stoned me,
he picked up a rock.
But you, sweet Judas,
came to me and staunched
my wounds with kisses,
put a tourniquet
on the bloodied stump of my heart.
Judas, he has torn me down,
worn me down to nothing,
and you stand waiting to love me
wanting to give me everything
not understanding
that powers higher
than us all
have ordered me to love him
though he slay me.
I do.
Even now,
as I gasp my last breath,
my blood is composed of love for him.
I die every day on his cross
waiting for him to see the light
and never go blind again.
Oh, Judas,
we both got bad raps,
you a betrayer,
me a whore,
when really you were the one
who held the goddess when she cried
who kept her holy heart from evaporating
into a mist of pain.
Judas, when you met me,
my Mother gave you eyes to see I was not human.
Your beautiful lips asked me, “What are you?”
I will tell you now.
I am the sacred queen
who sheds her blood
that the god might be reborn.
I am Isis, the crucified one.
I hang here now, convulsing,
impaled by the nails
he has driven into me,
and still, he does not see me.
But you do.
And Judas,
though I cannot love you the way I love him
I wish I could run to you
as you walk away
hating me now
not seeing my cross.
If I could, I would come down
to kiss you one last time.
Judas, though mortal eyes could not see
the demons that plagued my mind
fighting to slay me
because only they and God knew what I was,
though you did not know that the light
that flowed from his bones
kept me sane
even when his flesh was cruel to me,
Judas, I did love you as much I was allowed,
and the first time you took me
saved me
made me into something other
than the disposable whore
he saw when he looked at me.
You made me less of a loveless thing.
In your arms,
I forgot the nails.
Judas, know this:
You and the angels rocked me when I wailed.
The Savior left me for dead.
Judas, you alone
knew when you met me
that I was not of this world.
Judas, gentle Judas,
you were the only one who could make me betray him
the way I did when I let you hold me.
Judas, sacred Judas,
your love for the goddess has made you holy.
You will not die a traitor’s death.
Judas, beloved Judas,
If I were mortal,
I would choose you.
Burlesque Press 