Thursday, April 25, 2013

Where is your God now?

Someone once asked me, "where is your God now?"
so I
asked the monsters under my bed
and closet critics in my head
and they all insisted that they hadn't seen my God.
The Church told me to look within--that God
was hiding in my skin--
that the Holy Ghost was just the wind
that lived within
the billows of my lungs
so I
walked up to my parish priest and bared my chest out to him
and asked him why I had to cover up God's resting place
with a bra.
My mother told me I was a whore and I swore
that I was so much more
I was God's resting place, I said. I'm the temple whore.
In my father's office was a metal safe and I cracked it open
but there was no God amongst the valuables and
the passports insisted that they were more important.
Someone wrote some dirty notes and stuck them on
a wall
they had pictures of tits on bits of bible
but that didn't stop some junkie animal
from pissing on the wall.

There were witch burns across my skin and
pentagon scars where I had been
branded like a sacrificial cow.
I looked for God in prison cells
and wedding bells,
but the closest I ever came to finding God
was in futile prayer
on my way to Hell.