Middle Fingers To God

gone are the days where i prayed to god for forgiveness

when i begged him for help as tears seared down my face and i struggled for breath

i prayed for happiness and freedom and most of all death

that's right.

do you hear me 'god'?

you did so little for me that i resorted to praying to you to take my life

but you didn't answer.

you didn't answer anything.

the church told me you loved unconditionally

that you loved your 'children' you gave life to and blessed

where was my love, god?

did you forget about me?

because I received nothing from you but silence.

i've been told about your stories and tales

of Noah's Ark and Joseph's coat of many colors

but you know what i think?

i think they're bullshit.

you've done nothing but cause the world misery and pain

your time has come to move on and fuck up somewhere else

you never sent a son down from heaven to cure the world

you sent down a test subject with the same caliber as a middle school science project

and i'll tell you the results.

you fucked up beyond belief.

no man ever died for my sins

he wasn't crucified for some shitty fifteen-year-old kid thousands of years in the future that can't even get through the day with out medications

and if he did, then his death was fucking pointless.

funny, when i'm forced to listen to the pastor's prayers

i don't use your name, or your shitty son's

i replace them with the names of celebrities.

i get it, it sounds disgusting.

but when you look at the fact that they've done more for me than you ever will-

it doesn't seem so unbelievable.

it sounds fucking insane

i prayed for you to collect me from this earth where i was suffering

to relieve me of what i couldn't handle

but you left me.

you left a thirteen-year-old boy contemplating suicide to fend for himself against his raging demons.

you left him all alone.

not even his so-called christian-based mother did anything.

you know what they say,

actions speak louder than words- especially those never spoken

maybe I should thank you,

for a part of this,

because through it all, now i can at least stand by myself with out your assistance, that, lest i remind you, i never had in the first place

now i know how to fight and survive and i owe it all to you

aren't you proud, sitting on your clouds in the sky,

looking at this bruised and scarred masterpiece you've created

but I've got something for you, god.

YOU DIDNT MAKE ME.

I MADE MYSELF.

YOU NEVER PAINTED A SINGLE BRUISE ON MY BODY OR SCAR ON MY WRIST.

YOU HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS RIPPED CANVAS I MADE BEAUTIFUL ALL BY MYSELF.

ALL. BY. MY. FUCKING. SELF.

HOW DARE YOU SIT UP THERE LIKE A DEAD-BEAT, GOOD FOR NOTHING DAD AND TAKE CREDIT FOR WHO I AM.

YOU LEFT ME TO DIE IN THE DARKNESS

BUT THEN WHEN YOU'D SEEN WHAT I'D BECOME YOU WANTED BACK IN ON THIS MASTERPIECE.

BUT THATS NOT HOW THINGS WORK, GOD.

BECAUSE NOW WE'RE ON MY TERMS.

you had NOTHING. to do with this.

because i made it here all by myself.

and i know one thing's for sure:

you didn't create this world.

this world created you.