There is a town I call home
where streets are filled
with empty people.
People whose only way of death
is by taking their own lives.
When my older brother
committed suicide, that was
the first and last time
I set foot on Holy Ground.
There are people I know
who clutch nooses
instead of rosarys
and maybe this is
the reason my throat
closes up when I am asked
to say my hail Mary's.
But that doesn't stop the
young women in my town
from clutching Bibles
to their chests because
even though we don't
believe in God, we all
still need something
to hold onto.