God, where are you?

(trigger warning: mention of death, violence (communal and sexual)

There are men screaming for god on the way home, but I've never felt so unsafe. I wonder about the god that responds to these chants. Is he proud? Is he pleased? Is he even a he? And if he is, then who do I pray to? Who is my god? Do I have to share one with these heathens who maim and kill and hurt in his name? When I am the one who's usually maimed and killed and hurt.  Do I have to worship yet another man to be relieved of this pain? I'm tired of worshipping men. Yet, this is what I've been taught. What every woman has been taught. If you're obedient, it's easy and even if it's not, you'll learn to ignore it. So here I am, trying to ignore it all, as they shove it down my throat, forcing me to swallow.

I ignore the men who chant god's names like a warcry as they prepare for battle and boast of building worlds. They only end up building walls that burn and burn and burn. And I ignore the world that is burning, I ignore its ashes, its remains. One day, someone just like me will be paid in pennies to make sure that the ashes turn to dust. So they can put them in gold vases and showcase them on their mantels. 

I'll ignore the house behind the yellow walls getting run over with the people sleeping in them. I'll turn a deaf ear to their cries and the laughs of the person in a suit watching it all. Their walls will fall apart whereas mine will start closing in on me.

I ignore the orange on the streets that contrasts the red running down the drains. I'll even ignore the person crying for help as they punish him for worshipping another god, for being born in another family. I'll step over his corpse, praying to the same god that they don't notice me. That they ignore me. 

If not, then I'll ignore the knife in that man's pants as he walks closer to me. I'll ignore the hunger in his eyes as they meet mine. I'll ignore everything that happens to me because of the nice lady who said ignoring is easy, speaking up is worse. So let me sew my mouth shut with the clothes that they force on me. Let me die before another man's eyes fall on me. Let me find peace in another hell and when that happens, maybe I'll start praying to their god too.