Dear God,
I’m writing you for the sake of closure. It’s a change of motivation that needs to be pulled from the ears of the white elephant, picked from the branches of the Giving Tree and held onto with the arms of a saved life. I’m sick of all the strife; the anger the submissive contentedness I portray through each and every day. I need a moment to re-read the play. Each act is impacting my personal growth, depicting my inner-self as a happiness-rich heiress with the means to make ends-meat. What is this game I can’t cheat? I’m so tired of all my doubt and the permanent pout my shadow mimics; sometimes it’s not worth all the gimmicks I let suck me into the hole beneath the tree. My heart has been subdivided into three: Lonely, Controlled and Empty. Why must I imply a better half? You mean nothing when what you lack is a way to cheat death. How much is the hurt worth- the memories, the moments the time that will pass without you- if it only solidifies what is true. Life cannot exist without the passing of sanded stones, the hardened and risen groans of those that lived before their prime, a time when they could have been more. I can’t bring myself to open your door… To relive the reality that every day and every second that you are still gone I find myself wishing I could join you. Beneath the Earth we treat poorly, the rocks that give no comfort, the grass that grows green with envy at the roots that nestle your new home; there is so much I still wish you could know. I try to talk to you when I know no one else will listen, and all I seem to say is that I’m missing you.. Missing you… Missing the life I knew and appreciated. The father whose love I never should have initiated as never ending because it did. YOUR LIFE ENDED and along with it a huge part of my soul… I’ll never be able to afford the tole it takes to buy back the seconds I missed. I’ve silently wished for a broken heart so that someone will fix it like new; there are few that feel the pain that I do. And yet, regardless of how much I feel or don’t, how much time I will or I won’t need to make the days without you not seem so long, you will still continue to be gone. So far away that I can no longer smell your after-shave, can no longer hear you complain. I wish the desert sands had waves to carry me away; far, far away… Above the tainted air that corrodes the tear streaks along my cheeks, the effortlessly passing weeks and the disregard for the pain my body leaks. My mind seeks the comfort my heart prays for… I wish you would walk through the door. Down the hallway and to the shadowed room, then emerge with the stomping of your feet, the dragging of your slippers, and the whimpers of dogs you won’t let inside. I wish the tide would wash away my hurt, along with the dirt no longer needed. My capacity to willingly love has depleted and I blame Him because He let you go home. Away from the drone of every day, filled with the acing body and tired pain; I’m being selfish and not asking to be forgiven, I wish on the third day you could’ve risen. Up from your bed, and into my life, so you could see me grow to be somebody’s wife, the teacher of many and the mother of few. All I want back is you. And in the end, this much I know is true.
Dear God, I will never forgive you.


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