i really hate god
i left you, but you never had the decency to return the favor.
you walked right out that door with me,
you slipped into the cracks of me.
you know how mad it drives me?
i feel you move around, inside and outside of my bones
every time they call the name of the lord.
you’re such a damn parasite,
some fucked up shadow.
i press lighters into my skin with the naive hope
that i can burn you out.
but here’s the fucking thing,
you come like a moth to a flame.
you smile with cherry red teeth from inside of my mouth,
when i speak they hear you and i hear you.
have you ever wanted to kill people before?
i’ve always had three victims in mind.
me, a blank face, and my mother.
i’m calling you shadow,
but what you’re really like is a goddamn spotlight.
so, you’ve got me running around in parking lots,
scared as shit.
you tie a noose around my neck and yank,
all the way back to last year’s august.
you hear a choir and start revving up like a chainsaw,
you start reviving in the tomb of my cranium like a forsaken son.
you have your hands tight at the nape of my neck,
and i’ve got mine tight around your windpipe.
you shake me around and laugh when my eyes roll and shut from the force,
and i cry and yell when i feel no pulse at all, but know you aren’t dead.
you have nothing to lose, but i have memory.
forgetting is a beautiful, hateful thing.
i couldn’t stand being branded,
the way you branded me,
without remembering the hot poker smile you had on your face,
cleaving your face apart.
and if i forget it all i might never understand
why you whispered my mother’s name as you did it.
i’ve kneeled at altars with candles, praying for cures,
and i’ve done it so many times that when she told me
to get on my knees,
i realized there were some things i wouldn’t do for her.
she said that it’s holy to bruise knees,
and i looked at her and said,
it’s religious to bruise knees.
i’ve always heard them saying
i’ve yet to try hard enough, and good god.
i have tried too hard to be told i never gave enough of myself to your cause.
i have tried so hard and been too tired for my age.
you watch the eagle pluck the man’s liver out, yet somehow you are pure.
i laugh at the way his lips stained blue and i have sharp teeth.
i eat salads and smile,
yet i’m the one who needs saving.
it drives me mad knowing that lucifer has a bad name,
because he let eve know things only god did.
so, obviously, god couldn’t stand it.
so off eve went, along with her children, out to the desert.
off to starve and ache with her husband.
you can die of dehydration in the ocean.
there’s so much salt in it that drinking the water actually makes your thirst worse.
now, god loves salt, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have lot’s wife as a pillar of it.
god also loves sinning, but you can’t call it that or else my mother gets upset.
god loves showing his power and mercy by drowning the planet except for his favorite.
he shows grace and forgiveness by destroying cities,
and then turning wives and mothers and women into pillars of salt for looking back.
god can stand lucifer, beelzebub, asmodeus, and me,
but he could never stand women looking back on the things he’s done and thinking,
“how terrible is that?”
