When I stopped talking to God
I found that I had little to say.
So used to bitching and wishing,
Hoping my words would fly up
And reach the deity's deaf ears,
I forgot how to talk to myself.

Leaving my spiritual nest,
I said, "So long!" to a father figure,
And I became my own angel:
With wings to take flight
And a moral compass
To find my way instead of wind
Blowing me in whichever direction.

My halo forged from chain-link fences,
I open the world to my Eden,
And show them that I've taken down
Barriers of ideology, tearing down
My holier-than-thou shroud,
Getting down to the dirt,
And let my blood and bones show,
Saying, "See? We aren't so different."