I wore pants to church

I remember the days
when I had to wear a skirt to pray
those jumpers my dismay
but I wore them to school anyway.
I remember the days
confused by what I saw
not even four foot tall
not sold on what I was taught
one day I just woke up
saw it for what it was
and said I’d had enough.
I remember the day
I wore pants to pray
the nuns stopped me in my tracks
but I never once looked back
told them to call my parents
my mother on their side-the merits
of properly dressed females
but my father stood by my details
told him of my discomfort
that I refused injustice
that I would pray in pants
and he told them again my stance.
I remember the days
that I knelt down to pray
God on my shoulder always leading the way.
I remember the days-
Catholic memories
of standing up to nuns
and living comfortably.
I remember the days
only a little girl at play
when I changed the system
never needing permission
just God’s little vixen.

All that glitters

Glitter in your ashes
covering up those actions
speaking without passion
while consuming Christ.
We’re forcing this acceptance
playing at repentance
yet everyone could careless
speaking words with no real interest.
Glitter up the sacred
dressed up in sin and mayhem
thinking that you’re sainted
born of blood and pavement
truly just a state that
keeps you from the grave and
all reality that
you only relate by watching on the sidelines.
Glitter up those ashes
glitter up your soul
bleed of cotton candy the kind that never molds!
Glitter up those ashes
rainbow paint them bones
you act with no real actions
turning the common into gold.