The prayer card is handed to us
by the nun at school as she asks

+++++“Did you and your sister really run away

+++++from your father’s house? Did you two really do that?”

This small pocket-sized laminated paper 

of a saint painted with bored holy reverence

is meant to understand our problems,

meant to hold holy answers.

He is supposed to be the one to bring

peace to our family.

holy bullshit.  

Honor thy father and mother. 

No, I thought, I think not. 

When the nun gives us her blessing,

tells us she will be praying for us-

you, sacred little sister, grab my hand.

On the way out 

I throw away the prayer card  

because there are no angels 

in a house when your father is an Old Testament
God roaring the ground open with his violence.

So, we will be the saints for each other,
you and I

And I will have another bag ready for us,

ready to leave the minute father falls asleep
because if he is our vengeful god 

I will guide us out into our exodus.