A Cage Left Open

Jesus Christ

Daddy used to tell me to

say my prayers before bed

because God only lets you go to

heaven

if you ask him nicely

and

then he'd turn out the light

and

then I'd hear the door across the hall lock

and

then the entire house reeked of smoke

and

then I would fall asleep to the smell of my father's

sins

I wonder when he last prayed

Mommy took me to church every Sunday

she tied my curly hair up in bows

as I fiddled with the buttons on my dress

because He died for my sins

the least I could do was dress nice

so

she painted my face with blush the color of roses

so

she weighed down my skinny wrist with diamonds

so

she dressed me up like a porcelain doll

so

she made me believe I was only worthy of Him if I wasn't

ugly

I wonder if she'd step foot into church with me now

Jason told me he didn't believe in God

And that life after death didn't exist

he told me Heaven and Hell were just creations from the

imaginations of those who were too weak for reality

now

my stomach heaves at the thought of dying

now

my head pounds at the thought of what comes after

now

my pulse races so fast I think my veins will burst

now

every time I attend a funeral I am not mourning, just

terrified

I wonder if he realizes fear of my mortality prevents me from living my life

A woman came bearing a Bible in one hand

and a list of every family in our neighborhood in the other

she asked us if we'd like to be saved

and as my brother and sister nodded

I

froze and

I

felt suffocated

I

lied and

I

sinned and

I

said that

I

already was

I

ran away

from the woman asking if I wanted to let Jesus Christ be my

savior

I wonder if my shaking hands gave me away

Danny scoffed at the man caressing his husband's

hand in the grocery store

he told them he would pray for them

and

I clung to his side

and

my stomach twisted

and

I wrestled with what I know is right and what I am told is righteous

and

I let him victimize them for simply being

happy

I wonder if he would prefer me miserable, too

Grandma said that no boy's kiss could feel as good as the Lord's love

and when I mentioned the first boy I ever loved

she told me that no one could ever love me

as much as Jesus does

not

him

not

Mom

not

Dad

not

her

not

myself

not

anyone and I know now she cradles her Bible more gently than

me

I wonder if something can love me if I'm not sure it exists

I cannot have a conversation about my religion without feeling ashamed

because

Daddy never taught me how to ask for forgiveness

because

Mommy told me I could not worship without glossed lips

because

Jason snatched the faith from my clenched fingers

because

I ran away from the woman with the Bible

because

sometimes I like to kiss girls

because

Grandma loves the leather-bound book more than

me