While passing by…
I slipped my spirits in the pews of the church
In this day and old, still hunting for some belonging
That maybe I can name and bargain with God
Oh, golden gates of heaven as taught in earth,
Commandments fulfilled and some faith soaring older girl;
I must be mad as hell,
Because within the walls so holy, I’m merely a creature that lurks,
That reeks of different greyed-out flesh– so appalling
Like the scarlet liquid within me that they say from God?
Is there a person up the cotton clouds?
Or maybe just some speaking,
Omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient ball of light?
For a split second before, I was drowned
On a big chalice of water by the Father,
Yet, I might be christened but never felt counted.
Ousted the force that exists in my parent’s tale,
On my neighbor’s chronicle of miracles,
And on the books of old
Whether it is a legend, a myth, or the truth.
I was already gushing out an invisible pain;
Injured then murdered faith
But there’s a box
Where I will be caught screaming
For the man up above, just as old habits die hard.
Why can’t I just be one of the soulful worshipping arms?
To be finally included and excluded
In the narrative of questioning theology
So, what shall I then say to these things?
If god can’t be for all of us,
Will everyone be against us?
The Junk Collection 