• The high arched rough
    Lay above me
    Wooden floor below
    My eyes dart from side to side
    Beige walls cover my vision
    Pews parallel of me
    I walk down the aisle
    Amongst stain glass windows
    Telling of stories
    How God came to be
    How He created us all
    I walk on, staring at the windows
    And bump into the priest
    He's telling me
    With glazed eyes
    Telling me of worlds
    Of places
    Hardly anything
    He tells of bushes
    Burning bushes
    Isreal, and of a girl
    Named Mary
    I'm scared
    I'm frightened
    I've never heard
    People hunched
    Over in the pews
    I ask them what they're doing
    Praying, they say.
    What is that? I ask myself
    Backing away
    I run out
    Terrified
    I leave behind the praying
    The silence
    The past
    The church