Where is My God?

Where is my God?
Mother, are you there?
Is it you? Am I Her?
Does anyone care?
Do you have scars like mine?
Or an anatomy like mine?
Blessed and cursed with a
biology like mine?
 
Where is my God?
Mother, what am I?
Am I not woman enough?
Heaven knows, I’ve tied.
Does your body sputter like mine?
Is it obscene like mine?
Does yours wash down pills
in search of the divine?
 
Where is my God?
Mother, who do I worship?
What shall I become?
Who will take ownership?
Do you have hormones like mine?
Were your breasts sliced like mine?
Were your children carved out of
divine your flesh like mine?
 
Where is my God?
Mother, are you like me?
They told me over and over,
my parts aren’t godly.
I’m not enough like you.
You and Father alone won’t do.
The queer, trans, and peculiar,
well, we need a Parent too.