If I Talk Religion

If I talk religion,
will you unplug,
disconnect from discussion?
I found God
in the midst of night terrors,
demons that wanted to break me,
faceless bullies bent on hate,
and my school days were hell.
Home was war.
I didn't want to exist,
but I folded my hands together.
And I cried for help,
but help never came.
I had to survive.
I could have turned my back
on what we call religion,
but I held on,
pulling strength into my abyss.
And I survived,
and my faith keeps me strong.
But when you talk religion,
I laugh,
crack jokes,
and make fun,
but it's my defense.
Pull my layers back,
see my scars,
and truly know
that I do believe.
But my belief
is not my blindness,
and I see.
I see the world.
I see its hate,
but if we talk religion,
will peace find its way
into the darkest corners
of its bleeding heart?
Or will we
talk no more?