conversations with god.

you speak to me,
but i don’t listen.
i mean,
i go through the motions –
i hear you, and
i understand, and
my chest swells with tears
and they promise something new,
but my feet –

they never take me there
my heart has yet to move me there.
we

are unwilling
to do the work.
too attached
to too weak substitutes
strong enough
to distract me.
and i am like an addict.
i poke at my skin
fill up
with what is passing,
and never raise an eye
up.
i know you see me,
but i won’t look.
i am running.
no.
i am boldly avoiding you.
truth.

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