I had a bad day. A day full of closed fists, full of locking and unlocking the phone over and over again waiting for some kind of miracle but I guess God doesn't have wi-fi.
Or WhatsApp.
But if he did,
If he did he would either send me cat videos at 3 in the morning or leave me on read ALL of the time.
like, ALL of the time.
He would send me emojis with his little small hands and he would never make grammar mistakes.
He's favorite emoji would be the one with three water drops, so every time you texted him the answer would be like: "There you go! Holy water! Aren't all of your problems solved now?"
And you would laugh but still have all of your problems unsolved.
Like the mystery of god's existence.
He would always be online, but never for me. He would be online for all of his group chats with angels and they would never ignore his messages the same way they'd ignore mine.
He would text Jesus asking if he was still in the river because his mother already made dinner and it wasn't fair that they needed to wait for him AGAIN. Like, really, Jesus? Do you really need to baptize whores during dinner time?
Except that-
God does not have Wi-Fi,
or WhatsApp
and all of my problems are still unsolved.
YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet
PoetryThis is a compilation of poems and other random things I write, usually at 8 a.m. in the subway or 11 p.m. while I eat cereal.
