God Forbid


I was never allowed to be angry
or at least, I didn’t want to be
how could I tell myself that I was superior
if I was just like everyone else?
I used the bible as a weapon
and I wasn’t angry

and I wasn’t lost

“why do I still feel empty?”

God created the world in a week
while my perception of it changed more gradually
from an explosion to a new world
a bang, and then slow realization
bruised hands healing
a dusty bible on a bookshelf
I am selfish
and my thoughts are mine

God, has it been 4 months?
God, has it been 4 months?

In July, everything was different
or, it was that month that birthed a difference
the staircase was a new chapel
their kisses a prayer
and holding hands made it all worth it
they’re Sodom and I’m Gomorrah
and I’d ask for forgiveness but that would be misleading
because God, they’re worth it
my new communion
and maybe I should feel like something is missing
but it’s more like
something has been found

I’m still in church but my heart is 1,128 miles away
I am going to heal and
forgive myself
so no one else has to
how can I be forgiven
for something I’m not sorry about?

I am allowed to be angry now
I am a tornado in an empty field
I am an earthquake building
I am a slow fall of rain
I am in love
I want my voice to be a hurricane
my tears a rapid that takes everyone with me
I want my pain to be felt
because this time I am not the one repenting

Poem submitted by anonymous

Art by Paige Wilson: Assistant Art Director, What the F Magazine


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