That’s because I didn’t know preparation was required,
but it was an adventure if I’ve ever been on one,
exploring a brilliant mind corrupted with
lust
and want
and desire
and anger,
and if it wasn’t for the honor I felt being the
first to conquer your algae free heart,
I would have ran the other way
the first time you told me you loved me.
It was 11:34
and my stomach wanted nothing to do with my dinner
and my mouth wanted nothing to do with my brain.
How can you blame me for being terrified
to do anything but spit it right back?
I’m not saying I never loved you,
and I’m not saying you didn't teach me anything,
I’m saying the height requirements
were a few inches too tall
but you didn't care to
measure me up
before strapping me down
and telling me to put my hands up
when my instincts desperately wanted to
hang on for dear life.
I want to be in control again,
but I’m not even sure
what it feels like to be in charge
and I’m a little scared to be my own god
and not wear a rosary around my neck,
not having to kneel every time
you want to be worshipped and touched.
I would be a hell bound liar
if I said I didn't like it,
but I’m so ashamed of that
and being judged is something
the real God is supposed to do.

Who is that again?