1.
I sat at the front pew,
with all the good girls,
trying not to fall asleep.
I wore a Sunday dress
my mother could finally afford,
under my warmest sweater
because the pastor liked
the sanctuary cold.
He liked that I gave my
tithe. My faithful 10% that
kept the devil at bay. I gave
myself, therefore I got to live,
while my mother sneered
from a few rows behind, at
my sacrilegious fashion crime.
2.
When they dunked me like a
green apple into a caramel tub,
I wondered if God would wince
at my flavor and cringe at my
texture. Would he reach for water
and rinse His mouth? And what if
I spelled his name without
the capital H? And what if
I was just cold underneath an air vent?
What if I decided not to jump on a
lunch table and yell about God
in my high school café? What if
I only did it because it was expected?
Would God have damned me right
there? Would the Earth have shaken?
Would the Sisters have appeared,
magically, like witches, ready to eat
me? And by then, would I still be
sour and mushy?
3.
The flashbacks of my devotion
still hang like pieces of beat-up
art on the walls of my brain.
Will I ever gain the strength
to take them down?
I knew it was weird, but I believed
in perpetual punishment. I believed
in so many things.
4.
Years have passed after my departure,
my deconstruction, my backsliding.
I am fine. I almost refused to loosen
myself. To distance myself
from The Door that was so strategically
put in front of me.
Pastor always said,
Do not look to the right or the left,
turn your foot away from evil.
5.
If I stayed, I’d have been
just the same by now.
This isn’t shame, this
is growth. This isn’t death,
this is life. This is real rebirth.
This isn’t pain, this is healing.
6.
Their slogan says they change
lives one person at a time. They
tell you it will be the greatest
decision of your life.
7.
The greatest decision I ever made
was taking off the dress when I felt
it was sewn onto my skin.
When it didn’t feel good, but
it felt right. When I looked
to my right and my left and knew
nobody would save me.
