Dear God…

Dear God,

I tried talking to you again today
but
I remembered what I had done the day before.

I needed attention
and he was there.
Do you remember when you left me with ____
In that hell of a house
and I had nothing, or no one to look out for me?

Years of thinking I was nothing,
nothing
but an object of desire.
Something to be used just to pass the time
until a real woman would come along.
A blank piece of canvas
upon which my users would spill their
red and black anger,
to remind me that I was nothing,
nothing
but a vessel for hatred.

So when he came along,
it was different.
I was offered
love.
Getting undressed was easy
because I had done it many times.
But this time
hurt
more than any other.

He was gone the next day.
No note.
No phone call.
Not even a message, a text or an e-mail.
I was left once again
and for the first time it felt as though
he had taken a part of my soul.

I never want to be seen in such a vulnerable way again.

But now my virtue has gone
and I was left crawling on my knees
to your altar.
My mouth opened
and closed;
opened.

There is nothing I can say to you.

So I write this letter
with trembling hands
and eyes that are
red
and sore
with shame.

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