when i was young,
i believed i would go straight
to hell for questioning
the good book and god:
"how did god
come to exist if he
is the only god?"
no
don't ask that
of course he's
the only
one


for years i fought
my overwhelming urge
to ask questions 
about a faith i had never 
not known except
in the womb;
the Creator
the Great Innovator
the child playing
with clay
and smashing it when
it does not form
as he wishes
 

i always believed
that my god was 
a loving
benevolent
god and that he
knew how many 
hairs were on my
head and how many
freckles, constellations
of flesh, were smattered
across me and
maybe he knew
each scar 
even the ones 
i pretended 
weren't there
because why
would he
let me suffer
like that
 

i used to condemn
those who loved 
the same gender
because that was what
i was told
and i took it and
tried to live by it
only to fall short
when i realized
the compassionate god
that i knew
would not care
who his children loved
only that they did 
love, love so much
like he did
sending his son,
the human piece
of himself, to die
for a race
that did not care 
that he did
 

but when i was
rejected by my own
flesh and blood
because i did not
want to think of god,
lovely, beautiful god,
hating something he
had designed -
moulded with
his own
righteous hand -
i felt betrayed
and lost
and dying
wanting to die
dead
my chest
was shaking apart:
a quake
that shook me
into apathy
so maybe god
and i are the 
same in 
that respect -
we were left
to rot like flowers
in a crystal vase
by our own
families
 

and then i stopped
believing that god
was loving and
generous and 
beautiful; i realized that
god only created
for the sake of
doing so, because 
he could


i realized that god
wagered with satan
that a faithful man
named Job would never 
curse his name
even if satan
slaughtered his family
demolished his
home and
mangled his entire
life


and Job did not
curse him
but he did
ask god why
such a thing would
happen to him, a 
perfect man who
had not sinned
and first god said:
stand up like a man
and speak with me
and then:
why would you
ask such a stupid
question
and finally:
i did it
because 
i can


and then i stopped 
believing in god
because it was better 
to think i was 
utterly alone
in a colossal 
universe than
to think i merely
existed under the
thumb of a child
with modeling
clay who
created and
destroyed at
the barest of
whims simply
because 
he can
 

and i wept