I find myself gripping onto the edges of these pages
My hands have grown accustom to
The pages of this book that many have claimed to condemn me
Falling into each syllable and structure
That âspeaksâ of my state of being
As an unnatural disgusting anomaly
Conforming to this interpretation seems to be quite faulty
They claim that feelings and emotions are unreliable
That we cannot trust what lies inside
But how can we trust that your version of âobjective truthâ
Has not been tainted by your subjective trains of thought
 The church has been wrong on various occasions
We have thought that the earth was flat,
Women were not made in the image of God
And that we had the right to chain up the black man
That we were justified as we read scripture
Blood sweating off their backs as we
Whipped the word âanimalâ onto their shoulders
We told women that they were property
That the Bible gave beautiful guidelines
Of what it means to be a dresser drawer or a coffee table
Exquisite in its craftsmanship and useful in its function
 But oh we are not wrong on this!
The Bible is perfectly clear!
Homosexuals are sensual perverts
Not a part of Godâs design
You CHOOSE to live a lifestyle
Itâs not like it was etched into cracks of my bones
 How can the church be so foolish!
So arrogant as to say that they are not without error
That they cannot possibly make the same mistake as our church fathers
 And the price of the churchâs mistakes
Another teenager is found on the carpet
With a rope around his neck
âAnimalâ is carved into his forearm
We gave him that name tag
 The church claims to not condone slavery
Yet thousands of LGBTQ people walk with chains on their ankles
A strip of metal welded to their lips
We have whipped them into submission
And crafted them into nice coffee tables
 Our humanity has been stolen from us
We have been depicted as ravenous creatures
Out to steal your children and break up your families
Like the sexy neighbor next door who walks by your
Husband in a slinky black dress
 We sit there at your dinner tables while you rant
About âthose hell-bound homosexualsâ
We sit in the bathroom stalls and eat our lunches
Because the other school kids wont eat with us
We hear you even though you donât realize that you are talking to us
That you are talking to me
 Everyday that I sit in classrooms
And listen to my bible professors
More like the women of my grandmotherâs generation
Who were not seen or heard
Who were told to get back into the kitchen
Get into something âmore comfortableâ
An object of a manâs desire
I am told to be quiet
To be manufactured into something nice and pretty and functional
But people cannot be made into kitchen sinks
Or bed frames or nightstands
 For there is a God who speaks of our worth
Who you have used against us
He tells us that man-made interpretations
Of a book with rich cultural context
Cannot define our identities
HE defines our identities
 So I stand here as a gay woman
Standing for all who are poor and oppressed
Whose soles I am unworthy to untie
http://www.thebiolaqueerunderground.com/apps/blog/show/26172314-nametag