back pew of the church

i cried myself to sleep watching those stupid tiktok poetry videos

i forgot if it was jollie poems or something i forgot. (bitch those poems did not make me jolly)

the poem went something like this:

I met god by the back pew of the church

the people there whispered and gossiped, but i don't care

he told me about the miracle of his son

it turned the wine in his cup to water

but suddenly his son was stripped from him. too quick. too fast.

the water turned to wine.

mary left.

i didn't see god often, the pastor said he was at dive bars and such

but i kept attending the church though I wasn't a believer in hopes that god would come back and talk to me again. 

he didn't

one afternoon the sun shone on the glass panels, reflecting on the spot where god used to sit

the pastor told me that god had died.

"he lied down and didn't get up." he said "i expect you won't be coming here anymore. you're not a believer, aren't you? you only came for him?"

i nodded my head yes.