I never believed in a god.

I've never even touched a page of the bible until I saw heaven the day I looked into your eyes. Now I have scars and color on my knees from kneeling on holy ground for too long pretending to beg for forgiveness, pretending to beg for absolution when all I'm begging is for you to come back.

Last year in physics class we talked about the theory of duality. Now I understand why the moment you showed me heaven, my skin anticipated the scorching heat from the fires of hell.The only time I screamed god's name was under white sheets and clenched fists and a tangled mess of limbs, the only time I opened a bible was when I tried to look for salvation someplace other than your arms because it didn't feel right for me to have found everything in you.

I never believed in answered prayers until I tasted the one in your lips. Now the pews are drenched in holy water spilling from my mouth as I try to cleanse away the taste of the demons you left lingering on my lips the day I woke up next to an empty space and cold sheets on my bed. The statue of mother Mary is spilling tears from all the lies she's heard you say, the ones you told me right in front of the altar.

My mouth is dripping red as I try to brush your name away, I'm trying to convince myself that these bleeding gums taste better than you do, trying to forget how your lips looked like lust and sin but tasted like salvation.

Please come back. I think God doesn't listen to false prayers.