Something from Nothing

With just my thoughts, I have built walls
----a hundred feet high; walls
----with rock smooth as marble; walls
----with no doors or windows and no footholds to climb.
My thoughts were the stone.
My thoughts were the mortar.
My thoughts made the catapult that defends this castle; the
----men atop the turrets; the
----armor they wear and the
----arrows they fire.

I went to church every Sunday until I was fifteen.
I thought it must have been unholy that I was always bored.
Surely God knew. Surely He read my thoughts. Surely He
saw in me only a heathen; only a bored, empty, hopeless girl.
----Wasn't I?

When I came out to my mother, it wasn't just to tell her
that I liked women. I also came out as the Nonbeliever
I must have always been. She gave me books with titles like
----"Getting Closer to God" and
----"Finding Him Again" while she hinted that
it was just a phase, both sins were just a phase
and she still hoped she'd have biological grandchildren.

But I never Found Him Again. I knew
----I was a sin and I knew
----it was a lie that only God
could create something from nothing.

The same year I outed my secrets,
uncovered my Unholiness like peeling
bandages from a mummy,
a stranger in a white coat who had never met me before
saw fit to tell me I had Depression.
That was the year I learned to build
the way they told me only God could.

My thoughts were the stone.
My thoughts were the mortar.
With just my thoughts, I have built walls
that will never come down.