god is coming home soon
he’s always watching
I’ve lived half my life afraid of dying
wary of not just the men in the streets
but the one in the sky they say watches over me
a vengeful god
one who watches children like me
be thrown into pits and burned
like it’s respect, not slaughter
watching his sons and his daughters cry out from the dust
this is someone I’m supposed to praise?
supposed to trust?
they say god is love–
show me his hands then
that is blood
*the god I knew
from my third poetry book, Made of Earth.