seeking heaven and finding sand riddled with accusations

and here's the thing:
i want to chop my hair off
and dye it powder blue
until my honey-brown roots barely show 
colored pixie cut without the implications of femininity 

and one day i'd like to mark my skin, 
ink patterns into it, 
progression of the solar system
space for gay nerds like me
and sharks printed onto my collarbones, 
silver bladed scissors with gold handles

guess what? i can, i will, i want to 

and i don't think god, or jesus, or whoever's up there, 
would object to this - and if they would, too bad. 
my life isn't ruled by some distant cosmic entity

i have no problem with religion 
just people who try to use it to rule others

and i guess if my sins will stop me from 
pushing through the pearly gates into a dubiously-existing heaven, 
then i'm okay with that. 

i've been adapting to things all my life -
i figure hell shouldn't be all that different.

The End

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