The prickly goosebumps tethered to the surface of my skin foreshadowed misery long before we could.
And now death seemed to be the only certainty. Childhood had alluded to the concept of immortality. But He emits no exemption towards my youth.
Do you bathe yourself in lyes or holy water? Do I baptize my soul in bleach or perfume?
At night, I remain on my knees even as I sleep. I hold my breath, (in silence), the questionings of You live in my throat. Force the oxygen into my lungs, pump the blood to my brain. Prove to me I exist (you are the creator), but do not allow me to breathe. Crawl out from my ears and pierce them shut. You are my Father.
My eternal rapture.
Commentaires