The Flesh. God. Even Worse.

This poem is made from text found in letters written by pregnant teens who were receiving care from an organization that provided adoption services and religious teachings. This organization published the letters online to promote their services to unwed mothers. Most of their letters were very similar, suggesting that the teens were being told what to write about their feelings, their sins, and their shame. I wrote software to find the unscripted parts of the letters and combined these bits to create a poem that—I hope—reveals some parts of the teens' real feelings.

The Flesh. God. Even Worse.

As long as magnificent promises help me, 

the pleasures of your husband cannot explain 

this to God. You will find time is short and we 

will come into sin. Is a chaste life life? No! 

I wasn't the most interesting topic at the party 

(when discussing goodness that is). 

Your husband will find time to be God. 

The cornerstone of meat says: 

it's time to be an old girl. 

I can show he found love. 

We hope Chastity will find time to sin. 

We are the God and the body, the fires 

of the present age, Christ's love-letter 

to the life within. 

Pray you're different. Packing bottles, snacks, 

diapers, dressing, and just a few minutes 

to spend at the meetings. 

God I pray you love my soul. 

So be fire and be forgotten. Go 

fuck Megan's husband, get enough money 

because girl, you're a skeleton! 

Teardrops fall on regret (I know this is impossible). 

The stress has granted me stay with their mocking. 

Follow the word of your heart. 

It is chaste to turn away from Jesus 

and the pleasures of the hurt. 

Godly in life having sex with skills of God. 

The Bible told us how to sin, 

and we knew it.