my planned trip to god.

Trying to find a way without dieing.

Sometimes at night i swallow my pride, get on my knees and ask god why i survive.
i listen to the walls that bring no sound, wondering if i have to do something special
for him to look down.

still no word or vision, i don't remember not paying attention. What is that i am missing.
should i do a near death? Have you talked to him, seen or herd? What is left?

Tongue swelling to the point of no air. I can feel my heart at the frayed tips of my hair.
Buckle of my belt pinching my skin; waiting, wondering when my trip to see the alpha and
omega begin. Still here, eyes ready to pop. Haven't had a breath, yet still i gasp, the rhythm
at the tips of my hair stoped.

Eyes open to convulsion movements at the windows, not a word from " the one who's voice bellows." Did i make it to even see him? No, i just made it to the floor. Well back to the world of sin, and to fail is another reason to try the trip again. So i start to explore.

Reviews

[Sirius King]

i really like this

suggestion: i think this would flow better if you put each line in stanza form, and easier to read


other than that, great write!