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You
Every Sunday
Philosophy is raped.
And I’m tired of straight men
Who imagine a father so weak
They could put him on a cross.
And I don’t need anyone to die for me;
I did that already.
I gave up my childhood
For an adult mentality I could run to.
And now I walk an existence
Not fully formed.
It is definable, perhaps,
But I can’t find anyone with the heart for that.
I have committed sins
Which I never atoned for.
I’ve been too busy atoning for sins
I never committed.
You condemned me to this.
