I stopped believing in God
long ago.

When I was a boy,
my father would
scream and yell
at my sister
for her transgressions
and shortcomings
and I would
cradle a Bible
in my arms
in my room
and weep and pray
pleading for it
to stop.
I'm sure I made
some sort of
desperate offering
at some point;
a bargain of sorts
to take my soul
for hers.
Let it be me instead,
I'd pray.

All these years later,
my father and I
are estranged
and although I
no longer
believe in God
at times when I
find myself
backed into
a corner
I catch myself
praying again
throwing my pleas
in every direction
to any force that
will possibly
listen
and I begin to
wonder if a
prayer
actually can
be answered.

But I stopped believing in God
long ago.