I lost patience in Godthe third time you walked out and kept the...

I lost patience in God
the third time you walked out
and kept the door shut.

It’s been twenty-four months,
still I’m braiding candle wicks
between my thighs in hopes
I will not burn alone.

(Here is my passion,
my pain, my sins. Shove them down
your pastor’s throat.)

I lost patience in people
the nth time they shot
that black boy dead, festering
on the street. Heart
bleeding so red you could
smell it from across
the seven continents.

(Here is my rage,
my hopelessness, my tears. Shove them down
your governmen...