I wish I grew up religious.
Each Sunday, I wanted to be able to feel something
As I sat in the cold wooden pews.
The prayers that rolled off my tongue in memorized perfection
Felt as dead as the men who wrote them.
As we bowed our heads in respect to the man plastered on the cross
I couldn't help but feel as if he was a stranger.
Just another name in a series of stories.

Since I never placed my faith in the church
I placed my faith in you.
Dad, you were the God that was tangible.
You could not turn water into wine
You did not hide behind a facade of divine power
You were something I could hold in my hands
Something real.
You could not abolish sins
But you made me feel loved and
That was a miracle in itself.

I wish I grew up religious
Because when you died
There was no resurrection.
Three days passed and the streets were not crowded
With the news that you had risen.
Rather, my inbox was crowded with blank
"I'm so sorry's" from people I did not know.

You did not die for my sins.
Your death was not holy or noble.
They did not find your body plastered to a cross;
They found it crumpled on your kitchen floor.
You were another stranger to me.
I tried to pray for answers
But I found that I cannot cross myself
In the name of the father, son, and Holy Spirit
When I don't have a father.

Dad, I am sorry.
I have renounced my faith,
Burned our bible,
Demolished our church.
There’s nothing more I can do
Than offer you this poem
In memory of us.