It’s snowing out there… I yearn to go out and cleanse my body with that pure substance. I long to wash this dirty and sinful body of mine as His Majesty can only clean my soul. With every sin I commit I feel a dark spot growing on the surface of my body. It keeps growing until it drowns me in its filth. I have to wash it, to purify it and the snow is out. But …
but what you whore? But the snow makes my heart ache. Your what?! And does your species have a heart?! Well I do. What is it the part that fears and loves God then if it isn’t heart?! Guilt. You sinful damned woman. GUILT. But…
Where has he gone? He comes and despairs me and in a flash of light goes. Don’t I really have a heart?! But I ache when I walk on the snow and under the rain. I ache when I see a child or a bird suffering. I ache when I feel God watching me. What is it that aches inside of me if not heart!!
I’ve closed the curtains for I don’t want to see the whiteness spreading over Mother Earth. He’s right. That whiteness doesn’t evolve dirt like me. “All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.” Oh! It’s been so long since I read Shakespeare. But Shakespeare is forbidden. He’s sinful too because he evokes such emotions in me. Emotions which keep sleep away and make me shudder at night. Emotions that make me forget to pray.
Ha ha! I’ve caught you. Lord!When have you come? You forget to pray because of some letters on a page written by a mortal sick man?! You forget to pray to Your God because of a meek weak man?! Oh! You need thousands and thousands of years to redeem your lost soul. Thousands and thousands. But I’m a human and a weak one and He who created me knows better how I suffer and try. You’ve wasted your life clinging to the same old excuse. God will never forgive preferring man’s empty words to His Holy Books. NEVER. I haven’t…
Where are you? Where have you gone? Come back. Don’t leave me in the midst of my ideas' battle. I need someone to talk to. Someone to share my agonies with. Come back. Don’t leave me with those questions.
I know he won’t be back. He comes when he wants; knocks me with guilt and goes. And I’m alone.
