A Way

Posted: April 17, 2018 in Uncategorized

The way I pray, is in how I daily fill my lungs with smoke and still be able to breathe.
The way I pray is, in how I bleed every month and still have blood running in my veins.
The way I pray, is on how I finally sleep at night, after so much tossing and turning, after unsolved thoughts and death wishes, and then wake up the next morning, undead, yet.
The way I pray is in how because of my job, I get to witness souls leaving bodies from under my hands despite my attempts to keep them here, alive. How I break the never wanted news, how I hear the first wail, see the first tear that was not meant to be seen, and still be able to laugh.
The way I pray is in how I’m still haunted by memories of events I wish, I wish they weren’t real. Trying to convince myself that maybe those were just bad dreams, knowing, being dead sure they’re real. And still, I still eat my meals and drink water, I shower and go to work, I buy myself nice things and laugh with friends. Still I’m able to laugh.

Staying alive is the prayer I’ve exhausted my being with.
It is in every scar, every goosebump, every tear, in every yearning, every ache, in every poem I’ve bled. In every song, every night I spent awake and longing in my bed.
So don’t you dare tell me that I’m going to hell for not praying.

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