What do I say when you ask me to pray for you?

Because I know I can't say much.

I can't promise you that I will.

I can't come close to it at all.

And I'm afraid

(of you looking down on me)

(of you being disappointed in me)

(of you never being able to look at me without frowning)

of you.


When you ask me to come and pray with you,

and ask God for forgiveness, and to help us, and to take care of us,

and to read the Bible and

I can't do it.

I can't commit to all this.

With an entire family on one side, Buddhists as expected,

and you - you a Christian, and you just

you never asked. You always expected me to be one.


Yesterday, you asked God to forgive the family for not knowing Him.

You asked for them to be open, and one day be able to accept my sister and I being Christian.

I bit my tongue out of guilt.

For deciding that I couldn't do it, be held down by religion.

It might hurt you, but I can (need to) live without religion.

Without gods and morals and blind following.


I'm sorry if it hurts you.

I'm sorry if I hurt you

but I don't know what else I can be.

I can't just tell myself everything will be okay if I just stand around and pretend a little longer.

Pretend for you, for them, for everyone but me.

I like to play pretend, but not like this.


But I don't know what else I can be.

And for once, you can't tell me the answers.

please don't look down on me.

Characters: an aunt and her nieces.
Prompts: myself.