deepundergroundpoetry.com

I Used To Be...

I used to be a Christian
Until they decorated me in humiliation and fear
Fingers bruising the cross around my neck
While I sought answers in the great expanse of universe
That never picked up the phone
And pages of prejudice lay crumpled on the floor
Angry tears staining me, and draining me of faith
That any kind of God could love someone as unlovable
As me.

Sixteen years old with a man’s tongue trying to lick my tonsils
Rough hands exploring unwanted
But isn’t that what girls are meant to do?
“Do you trust me, baby?”
I was too scared to say no while he made me bleed
Genesis is just a story... the world wasn’t created in seven days
Ripping my (bi) secrets to shreds when I said no
To the ménage à trios with a pretty whore
And I’m drowning in hypocrisy I can’t understand
While pretty little pretenders want to tell me I’m going to hell
In the name of their so called God.

Passionate kisses with another girl in the back of a church
Desecration never felt so good, as I lost myself
In the heat of her lips
Her gentle curves wrapped around mine
Hell seemed so worth it for a taste of something so divine
And no amount of scriptured beatings
Could tear me from her arms
Because her touch made me feel alive and loved
When everyone else wanted to make me a sinner.

And I was naïve enough to believe I wouldn’t pay
For my crime of love, whipped by human advocates of God
Evil hidden behind angelic faces, and a bible full of hate
Yet, in irony, I was the one destined for hell
Though no hateful words poured forth like venom
From my treasonous tongue
As I curled up beneath the covers of my bed
Trying to hold together my insides as they threatened
To burst open with pain and hollow bleeding
While I prayed through the sobs, for God to love me
To save my damned soul... and he left me to suffer my agony alone.

So tell me why I should love a God that condemns my desires
As abhorrent in a book written by men
And tell me, why I was a victim of religious “love”
When God is so loving, and humanity is not
Though we’re meant to be created in his image.
Tell me why people judged what they couldn’t comprehend
Scarring me so deeply that I tried to slit my wrists
And send myself to hell, because heaven didn’t want me anyway
When (they’re saying) Satan is in my bones, and I’ll never be redeemed.

Yeah, I used to be a Christian...

© Indie Adams 2012
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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