My ex wife told me once,
that she sold her soul to Satan,
because she was a control freak,
and she was starting to think that Christianity was a scam.
God was always giving her orders,
and deciding her fate.
He decided that she should be a beautiful blonde,
with a gorgeous hazel gaze,
(Yes, THAT ex wife),
that she should meet a woman,
who would chronicle each mundane moment of her life,
in excruciating but occasionally exaggerated detail,
(for example, we were not actually married),
which she said she didn’t mind so much,
but she could never be sure,
if our love was special and spontaneous,
or if we were the pretty playthings
of some queerbaiting sims player in the sky,
it all got too much.
she began sacrificing chickens,
to appease gruff but grateful goats,
setting fire to the local church,
every now and again,
celestial and serene,
her bright eyes battling the flames,
daring the world around her,
or any God,
in any sky,
to test her.
I waited at home,
under her spell,
with a list as long as one of my poems about my angsty teenhood,
scrubbing and sorting our castle,
at her request,
because she was my God,
and I never had a problem taking orders.
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