Sunday, February 10, 2008

18 Years

18 Years
18 Years
18 Years of every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night
18 Years of searching
18 Years of believing that you could be lurking behind every impure thought I ever had
18 Years
Those wooden church pews have indentions from my arms, kneeling over them praying for a sign, hoping that you would talk back when I spoke to you in my mind
18 Years of nothing
Nothing but a family tree that was cut down by my forefathers to be reconstructed as a cross
Generations that nailed themselves into a legacy because they devoted their lives to a one sided mind in fear of an eternity of flames
A heritage of forgotten names that did nothing significant in their lives because they only worshipped you and worked just enough to survive
And I'm a disappointment to them, because I can't see a reason to follow the same path with mine
I'm tired of the division between my parents and I because we can't see eye to eye on a specter of faith, a ghost that only manifests itself between the lines of dusty Bibles and worn out hymnals, a scarlet letter burned into my forehead by my family members because they've been taught that a measure of a man can be answered in one question
Do you believe in God?
And if for no other reason than the sake of being fully accepted by my parents
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to fucking believe
They remind me that I don't have see the wind to know it exists, I can feel it
But I don't feel you
I just feel bad
I feel bad for everything that I can actually see
I feel bad for every broken home and father that beat their daughter as she cried out to you asking for it to stop
Every rapist that invaded a woman's body because he didn't have the standard human decency to know that it was wrong
Every television channel that I turn on to see another story of a student that brought a gun to school and shot five of his classmates, painting over the academic plaques and football trophies that line the hallways with their blood
And the countless other murders that just occurred in the time that it took for me to bring that up
I want to believe
I want to believe that you didn't just create mankind so you could watch it fall apart
I want to believe that you can hear this, the closest thing I've had to a prayer in the last 7 years
Our Father who art in heaven, show me how to believe
Cause my father who is on earth can’t look me in the eyes without questioning what he sees
But I’m right here
You hear me?
25 Years now and I’m still right here
Still the trembling little boy on his knees begging for my fathers to accept me
Either show me your wrath or bless me with your presence
I’m telling you to kill me or fill me with this holy spirit I’ve only heard about
I’ve open my eyes as wide as I can and stared into your silent void until I almost went blind
Now I’m asking for you for the millionth time to give me the fucking sign
25 Years now
25 Years


katie cowden said...

still scary.

Anonymous said...

Have you forgotten this place? I hope not, I want to read more.