Keith

I stand in the mirror and I see my flesh.

It's as real as everyone else's.

I drag my finger across it, and I feel the texture.

My eyes are glassy, like yours,

Full of some semblence of hope and anxiety,

Blending into some apathy milkshake I drink

Every day.

Because to everyone else I am not human.

Despite my qualifications for being so, 

I am different.

And not by the color of my skin,

Or my gender,

Or even some choice that was wrong.

But they know.  

They mock me for it.

Some laugh.

Some cry.

Others simply stare and point,

Whispering under their breath.

Atheist.

Because that’s the most detestable thing

To be.

Everything else pales when it comes to that one word.

Atheist.

To those that laugh and stare,

They see not skin or eyes.

They don’t see my worries,

Or anxiety,

Or pain.

They see nothing human.

They see evil

Which must be banished to Hell for eternity.

They see a wayward soul without

Any purpose in life.

They see an opportunist,

Out to destroy religion forever.

And these words against me,

They do not pierce the heart.

They do not kill me.

But they hurt none-the-less.

They sting like a poisoned spear

Dragging across the back of my calf.

They bleed me out,

Hoping that I will show the monster

They believe I am.

But all I am now

Is broken and bloodied.

Ashamed of identifying myself

As such, despite not disagreeing with

Its philosophies.

So I apologize

For being different.

I apologize for being something

I shouldn’t have to be sorry for.

But maybe an apology will stop this

Relentless onslaught from

Family, friends, and strangers.

Maybe.