sideofstars

hands&knees

i love Him.

but even the word “love” isn’t enough.

it’s closer to religion.

i don’t think my knees have ever hit the floor harder.

our conversation reaches the depths of prayer.

i have felt more stirring and emotion laying atop his bed than i ever have sitting in the pews of any church.

i bare my chest open and tell Him my sins in repentance and hope that He forgives them enough to love me anyway.

i take His words as biblical, His actions as divinity.

His eyes are the color of dirt and i’m convinced it’s the same dirt that was used to create all of us.

He often catches me staring at them and questions why, and i tell him it’s because they’re beautiful.

and although they are, i’m really waiting for something to begin to sprout between His eyelids.

because that would be proof that He is not just life, but that He creates life.

that life comes from Him.

that everything comes from Him.

everything good, at least.

and isn’t that what religion should be? everything good?

maybe it makes me blasphemous, but i gladly surrender my life to Him.

because He is everything good.

and i put my faith in that.

i put my faith in Him.

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