Don’t tell me what’s holy when your visions of heaven sounds like chains.
You say i’m free but only if I kneel.
Only if I speak your truth instead of mine.

You hand me a rulebook written in fear,
Marked with sins for simply being human.
Cover your hair,
Lower your voice,
Don’t feel that,
Don’t love them,
Don’t question,
Don’t doubt.

You say ‘god’ watches,
But it feels more like you are.

Policing bodies,
Minds,
And voiced that dare to excuse outside your lines.
Faith should never feel like a muzzle.
Worship should not be forced into trembling hands.

Believe if you believe.
But don’t make me carry the weight of a ‘god’ I didn’t choose.
Don’t call it salvation if it begins with fear.
Let me think.
Let me feel.
Let me choose what is sacred to me.

Because truth,
If it matters at all,
Shouldn’t need
To be forced.