Pigs can’t look up at the sky
Not while they’re standing
The anatomy of their neck muscles
Doesn't let them look totally upwards
They can strain and they can pull
But their noses will never meet clouds
I am a pig on her way to the slaughter
Straining and pulling
I cannot look upwards
Unless I’m lying down

There was a father
A man much too far away
Someone more than merely a man
Someone I could not hear nor see
Because my eyes are those of a mortal
I am nothing but an animal in a pen
And I simply cannot look up to the heavens to see Him
So I listen to others speak of Him
I read about Him in books written for me
And I hope that He can somehow hear me

There was a father
A man that would beat his piglets
He wrung my legs until I could not stand
And so I could do nothing
But look up at him from the mud, begging
He was the only father I knew
But my eyes were blinded, out of focus
By a sun I was not used to seeing
So I blindly trusted him
What else is a piglet supposed to do?

There was a father
A man that loved the pen openly
Loved his children and his piglets
He would take me from the mud
And hold me belly-up to the sky at night
So I could marvel at the stars
So I could squeal prayers to the moon
He saw my bruises and my scars
He told me I was more than a piglet
He told me I was a boar with tusks

I should have known I couldn't trust a father
I trusted him with the hurt, the longing
The secrets I nursed hidden from others’ eyes
He taught me what it meant to trust
He was my father when I was crying out for one
He made me forget
That I have never needed a father
And I certainly don’t need my father
Asking to hogtie me for photos
Asking if I’d want that from him

I should have known I couldn’t trust a father
The father of my blood chipped my hooves
He made my snout bleed
I was so young and so helpless
I didn’t know that this was not was love is
When he finally left, I went searching
Yearning for something to fill the gap
That had never housed compassion to begin with
But I was never taught to sense danger
You don’t notice red flags when your world is red

I should have known I couldn’t trust a father
The father of my spirit has abandoned me
I spent years giving stone-faced lies to saints
Pretending I was close to Him
Passing fictional poetry for testimony
Hiding my doubt in empty metaphors
Nobody noticed that I was lying on the ground
Staring up at the sky in hopes of seeing
Of catching a glimpse of my father
It’s no surprise that I gave up

I don’t need a father figure
Because I can’t look up to anyone
Not as long as I’m standing