Dear God,
I heard you exist in the darkest places.
Where love and light are no more,
Where nights are cold and days are other cases.
When I'm in the ocean and can't see the shore,
Amid my abashment and vacancy,
When I scream,
Do you hear me?
When the hollow in my heart engulfs all hope,
Do you see me?
Is this much misery, not a pity?
Speak to me as a father would with his daughter.
As if my transgressions had not reached a horrendous number.
As if my days here,
Have brought you joy and not odium.
How did my soul generate so many cavities?
On the bed, I lay,
If at least you care,
Let me feel your glare.
Whether wrath,
Joy, or abhorrence
Let me hear your voice.
In that the inquiry, "How?
How did I get here?"
Does not oscillate in my ephialtes
As I browse,
Not to rest but to escape the ordeal I live in.
Dear God,
How?
How do I feel again?
YOU ARE READING
Exulansis
PoetryI haven't shown my work to anyone yet, but I feel a lot of you can relate to it. We tend to lack words to express certain emotions. I may not be the best at expressing those, but I had similar experiences to some of you. I wrote them down, and these...
