Sacrilege Poem by Stefanie Fontker

They speak her name
Like it means something
As though it is death
The end of the world
What so many religious
Books and people predict
And when I laugh, they cry
They scream bloody murder
As if I have sinned deeply
In front of some high held
Lord or God, and did so
Without a care in the world
And then there are hands
Gripping my arms, hoping
To shake some sense into
This senseless brain of mine
But it is impossible
I will not cower in front
Of a stillborn goddess
She could never catch my heart
With her slippery lips