when I was a young girl I was raised to believe that a man in the clouds always watched over me watched over me with all knowing sight as long as I prayed to him every night as long as I blindly worshiped this being I would be happy and healthy and free but what is freedom when you are alone in a faith that prohibits the dark unknown?
"I am a jealous God," he said, for I was taught to be meek having faith in what I see is blasphemy for a fruitful life on earth, my soul I would sell, if that did not sentence me to eternity in hell spitting, burning demons aflame forever tortured in this everlasting game beaten and bruised and ****** below to a place that no one would choose to go but He loves me
"you must look well, clean up, wear your dress!" in order to avoid loneliness you must follow these ten rules he ignores the world's strife despite his tools but He loves me
why do we not thank our doctors and mothers? we thank God instead of the works of others what has he done? he sits there and stares he sits and laughs at what is not fair but He loves me
he needs time he needs money he needs blind faith he needs me to sacrifice my soul he needs me to sacrifice who I am
...but He loves me
if this poem is offensive to you, don't worry, it offends me, too.