V.
You were the good kid.
The one all the parents loved.
You could’ve convinced any one of them
to push their child off a bridge
four minutes past twelve,
your chin parallel to the tops of their heads.

VI.
Always relishing when you were called
slut or whore or easy.
“What’s bad about it?” you asked me,
sincerely.
So it was decided
from now on
there were only six deadly sins.

VII.
You hated God,
or at least you would,
if He existed.
So you took His job upon yourself,
your first act
burning the bible
and rewriting it.