Bridesland

In my mind
God lacks imagination
And perservance
And every other thing
That makes you think
A shitty person
Is actually not so shitty.

What's the wisdom of reality
Inside a posessed mind like mine
With titbits of facts
And unknown mathematical solutions
Only I can solve.
I tore at the walls of imagination to know
Anything and everything
And there I found life.
The scars on my arm are an ancient language,
The border between knowledge
And your lies,
God.

There is this thing, God,
You tend to flock to the masses,
And forget the one on one voices, God.
You build us a cage
And think we need to thank you,
God.
You gave us a name
And not the knowledge
To understand it, "God".
Do you think emotional abuse is okay?

And when ideas, like fruit, remain untouched, uneaten
They rot, they die, they smell
And soon the smell will poison the perfection
Of the garden of Eden inside our minds.

You promised my soul to a person I don't know,
I was a good girl and this is my reward?
A life to be fulfilled
By catering those who think them entitled
To me?
But I must be happy to be a bride, they say.
This is MY day,
They say.

He raped me that night.
You think he would know the word no,
But he still raped me that night.
My husband.
He said I am his,
Like you say I'm yours, God.
Were you there raping me too?

Maybe Eve ate the apple to get away
From Heavens patriarchal reign
That said it was okay to sell your daughter to her rapist
But stone her if she did not cry out enough,
And that it is not okay
To wear different kind of clothes together,
Or eat shellfish
Or work on Sunday.
But damn, if you once listened to your wife's advice!!

You said I am not free
Without your God,
And I do not right from wrong
Without his bible.
But I do,
Perfectly.
Would you?

For your God was there,
When he raped me that night,
And many nights after,
And he?
He was cheering it on.
For I was his bride.
I was God's bride.

Funny how it goes,
Doesn't it?