Father
I am sorry
for saying I hated you.
I am just so angry right now.
Like a child
Who can’t get her way.
Whose been hurt and burned
enough times to be weary
of the tricks and games
other believers play
I want to believe you
to have hope that you are there
and that you will carry me through
but I can’t see
and I don’t have enough faith
to have faith
I am cynical.
doubting Thomas
show me the wounds in your hand
I am not asking
like a smug skeptic thirsty for victory
I am asking
as an abused child
afraid of her own shadow
and needs a gentle hand
to prove that not all hands hurt

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