letter to the universe’s absentee father

dear god

this is the closest I’ve come to prayer since the bottles stopped bringin me to my knees. I don’t believe in you…and you don’t believe in me. but sometimes I find myself callin out to that abandoned throne. my cries echoin back at me in the emptiness of your absence. I tried to believe but they lost me when they said we are made in your image. seems bit backwards. you are made in our image. twisted. broken. selfish. cruel.

we are lot alike. you and i. how else do you explain floods and rainbows. plagues and manna. the violent jealousies. the need to be acknowledged. you demand faith. I chase validation. you strike down those who worship other gods. I lash out against my reflection for not properly seein me. you hide like a coward. I walk like a ghost…meaninless…pointless.

you can’t claim I don’t understand. you can’t call my views ignorance. I’ve been you. I’ve had my skull cracked open and infinity poured into me. had divine purpose pulse thru my veins. the universe has carved its way thru my brain with a rusted blade and written its secrets inside my eyelids. and for a moment…I understood everythin. for a moment…galaxies spun behind my ribs. prophecies burned in my throat. I held creation in my palm and wanted to crush it.

i understood it all. the way you love. the way you rage. how fuckin lonely you are. I was you. you were me. you wore my skin. lived behind my eyes. and still…neither of us believed in the other. but somehow…this is the most honest relationship that I know.

I find grace in your indifference. there’s a security in the silence that follows when I plead with the void. you remind me with each unanswered cry that you do not exist. and I exist to much: empty vessel among the livin who knows to well the weight of bein. you…unable to exist. I…unable to matter.

but if you do exist. if you can hear the words screamed deep into nothinness. just remember even you can grow. even you can break. even you can heal. even you can do better. give more to your “children”. but most importantly…if you do exist…you can go fuck yourself.

-Andru