I Do Not Want to Write

I Do not Want to Write

(“I am God who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Be holy because I am holy.” Leviticus 11:45 [The Message])

I do not want to write today; for several reasons.
I am weary, yes, droopy eyed, fall back asleep before lunch-time
tired.
I am hurting, yes, years of trying turned into to “no’s”, and 40 months
full
of headache pain that traps me underwater without breath.
I am atheist, yes, that is why I do not want to write today, I cannot
find Him whom I love, nor feel His “yeses” to sooth the “no’s”, to
remove the gravelly acne that has popped up around my adolescent hopes.

I do not want to write today; for I am sore afraid.
I am afraid of what I will write, putting down exactly what
wrestle matches and rashes that know complicate my thoughts.

I do not want to write today; for I am more afraid.
I am more afraid you will actually read it and believe my faith
is bone dry (why, you have every reason to, I wrote it plain, afraid
as I say I am atheist today.)

You have read me in the past and nearly choked me with your
display of personal pain, blaming what I wrote, claiming
pointblank aim from my loaded words. I shoot barns broadside,
not mere peers downroad from me, having crossed sunlight’s horizon.

I do not want to write today; I am no martyr, yet today I would
rather fry for the faith than face another day of empty space
just trying to catch my breath. I love You, invisible, and
love You still, today, I have no doubt;

You are not there.

I do not want to write today; I am atheist only because
my heart is emptied of every belief, void of hope,
and lost on the banks of a lonely island like
a lover left without a word or letter.

I do not want to write today.