talking to me still

there were times that as a child i’d run away into my imagination especially when the adults would fight it particularly hurt to hear my mother give up on God because she was so fed up with my father at that time i had two safe havens God and my imagination i was confused i had no leadership no plan no order later as a teen i had too many thoughts but zero beliefs i prayed but it was hollow i did it for the same reason smokers smoke out of habit i further went into my head i proved to be too much for myself as well there was too much empty space in a 90 lb body and the space in the hole of my soul was even greater i would draw lines idly at times not really connected to the sensation in my fingers one rainy morning walking to my school ditching destination i noticed three perfect snails juicy full of ooze and as i crouched to get a closer look i saw their flat gill like body making slow waves on the pavement as they carried their homes on their little gooey backs and as they millimetered toward a retainer wall with ivy and empty Schlitz bottles i noticed a silvery slick trail it was beautiful i thought but alas my hooky buddy was waiting with booze amongst other things now that i am writing down these thoughts i realize that i was shattered banged up and at times beaten but had i been broken i would not have been able to see God’s covenant of a silver lining under the three perfect snails He was talking to me still

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