God I don’t talk
about you anymore.
But God I think about
you when it’s necessary.
I think about you
every time I drive
by Lourdes.
I do that every day.
They taught you to me there.
I heard your name
more times a day than
I heard my own.
I think about those
poor little Catholic
kids, who didn’t have a
choice in the way they
believed in you.
Nothing was on our
terms.
There were no exceptions
to our thoughts.
Nothing was right
until we found a Psalm
about it.

God
I think about you
in between asleep
and awake.
When part of me
remembers the Sunday
I went to church
only to be force fed
the Pro-Life agenda.
God I respect
humans.
God they didn’t respect
us.
God I was too afraid
to ask questions.
God their eyes
looked like hate.
God I don’t want
to go to hell.

My Bible
has been sitting
on my closet floor
for a year and a half.
I’m too afraid
to open it
for fear I’ll find
fire and brimstone
in between the Beatitudes
and the Passion.

God I believe in you
I believe in love
I believe in kindness
I believe in life
I believe in good vibes
I believe in fate.
God I believe in everything.
I knelt by my bed
tonight
and prayed
for everything little
Catholic girl
who’s thinking everything
I did.
I understand none of it
and I pray that she will.