Who the hell is god, and why aren’t they hitting me back?
You disappeared during the blackout of 2017,
and I haven’t been able to find you since.
Not that I need you,
I just miss asking questions at you
and having your stunned silence lull me to sleep.
Why give us knowledge, tell us about death,
then let us stew in our own sweat and fanny packs?
What would you change the color of the sky to?
What would it be like to kiss you, god?
Not to be weird,
just trying to document any notion to one way or another.
Because when people ultimately forget me,
they will ultimately forget that I ever talked to you.
I prayed for you on these nights when I couldn’t even pray for myself,
and I am getting used to your silence.