They told me to believe, but I never asked in what.

God's words line my shelves
as if they speak a truth
someone can hear.

I must be deaf.

I thought I could hear perfectly,
but the tone with which
Holy scriptures are written
must be too delicate
to defy my eardrums,
the stories of whales
and genealogies for miles
must be too much of a
rarity to waste
upon someone as
stained as me.
Maybe they just don't speak my language?
I don't think I'd listen anyway.