i exist [as the definition of nonexistence]

my hometown in God's country

[alternatively titled: a religion poem masquerading as a poem about a small town]

My hometown is painted in ugly shades of rust and yellow smiles.

the small town choir laments dirty midnight sins
the confession booth bathed red with blood,
red with lipstick stains,
candle wax dripping from innocent flesh as
liars whisper to believers and
gossip is secondhand nature,
a hand-me-down bible full of tips on
How To Whisper And Mock And
Stare Without Staring.

I have been the punchline of playground jokes
daughter of a whore and a drug addict
too thin and awkward and
"haven't you heard, she doesn't sing at church!"
children raised by christianic cannibals
shoved their hands down my throat,
stole my voice and devoured my heart
but jokes on them:
wolves taught me how to growl
and a witch told me you don't need a heart
to rule kingdoms.

Every other building in my hometown is decrepit.
crumbling bricks and potholes in the roads
there are five churches, each preaching the same stories
I went to five churches before it dawned on me
that I loved other girls more than I loved God
and suddenly I was a decrepit building,
floors caving in under the watchful eyes of my family
five preachers unleashing the unrelenting swarm of
bible-thumping small town housewives
and cheating husbands
and cheap motel whores
onto my dusty brick walls.

my grandpa's been cheating on my grandma
for thirty years.
he was an alcoholic asshole with a trigger-happy right hook
and anger issues like an unpinned grenade in his fat fist
and no one did anything.
my father does not know how to be a father
because small town mentality is to
suck it up
small town mentality is
"It's still the 1950s, right?"

my mom was a drug addict,
a cheater,
a shit-for-brains, no good bitch.
who left and never looked back
but if she could see me now--
17 and gay and athiest--
she'd be disappointed
because small town mentality is
"as long as I can pretend I've read the bible,
I'm better than everyone."